


Incendiary

by hibouxx



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, Extremely Dubious Consent, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:14:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 38,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24820657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hibouxx/pseuds/hibouxx
Summary: A fledgling swordsmith, Jaehyun, finds belongingness in the form of a round-eyed foreign slave, but he soon realises there's no place for them in a cruel world ruled by a mad king.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Nakamoto Yuta, Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Original Character(s)
Comments: 85
Kudos: 220





	1. eight

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since I've posted anything here. I've been distracted and didn't have the motivation to write for a long time.
> 
> I've actually had this fic in mind for a while, in fact, this was the original plot for A Picture of You before I decided to change the direction and setting of that fic entirely. I did a lot of research for this one and tried to stay as historically accurate as possible but there will still be a lot of inaccuracies, so just heads up for that.
> 
> The main pairing of course is Jaehyun/Yuta but there will be a lot of scenes between the King/Jaehyun. The non con and dub con in this fic wouldn't be written in detail, so there's that. 
> 
> Lastly, this fic won't be for everyone, there will be a lot of /mature/ scenes, heavy themes and near helpless situations. It won't be a pleasant ride, so proceed with caution! If you still wanna read after all that, you have my sincere thanks for giving this fic a chance.

The familiar sight of the thatched roofs coupled with the sound of rickshaws being dragged across the dirt road sent a much desired sense of ease down Jaehyun’s spine. The many moon cycles he had spent outside Hanyang with his hackles constantly raised at the fear of thievery had taken its toll on his body. Nothing sounded more promising than a good soaking in the river but the temperature had started to drop as the sun dipped below the horizon and falling sick was last on the list for someone like Jaehyun, who would not be able to afford a day without working.

In his pocket, his hand tightened around a balled piece of paper one of his clients gave him on top of his pay, a small token for a job well done, the older man insisted. Jaehyun had stared at the piece of paper, unable to decipher what the client had scribbled in haste but he had listened attentively to the man’s instructions anyway. Picked off the streets by a slave trader and sold into slavery at a very young age, Jaehyun had nothing in his name but the skills he had picked up from his previous master, a renowned swordsmith in Hanyang.

The client’s instructions had taken him to an unassuming establishment by the river, in the northernmost part of the city. It didn’t take a scholar to tell where he had been led to, Jaehyun was no stranger to this area, having been been dragged there countless times by his former master, who had been one of the most loyal patrons of the particular building he now stood in front of.

“Yoonoh, is that you?” A voice broke him out of his reverie and he quickly turned to the direction of the voice. It had been a long while since he was called that name.

A middle aged man stood by the entrance to the building, a smoking pipe in hand with smoke billowing around him, and a confused frown on his face. It was the owner of the establishment, Jaehyun quietly noted how much he had aged in the years since he last saw the man.

“Yes sir, I go by the name of Jaehyun now.”

“Oh, does that mean you are a free man now?” Jaehyun nodded meekly after noticing the knowing smile on the older man’s face, “then that must mean you’ve come here on your own accord.”

“Actually…” The young swordsmith was quick to pipe up, following the older man inside as soon as he was beckoned in. He handed the crumpled paper to the owner and watched understanding dawn on his weathered face as he scanned through the writings.

“It seems you’ve greatly impressed a very good friend of mine. I’ve never seen him go this far for a swordsmith.”

“If you don’t mind, would you be able to tell me what it says?” Jaehyun finally asked, curiosity piqued. The man chuckled and Jaehyun couldn’t help but shrink into himself despite being an entire head taller than the old man. His inability to read nor write still made him feel lacking, more vulnerable against those that wished to take advantage of him.

“My boy, it’s simply an invitation to be served here for a night and you get to take your pick too.” Jaehyun’s face burned at the implication but he refused to act virginal in front of a man who made a livelihood out of selling flesh. While he had certainly indulged himself in baser pleasure, he had never paid for a body to warm this bed before. Every part of his being screamed for him to turn away in embarrassment but he stood his ground like a grown man. He couldn’t fathom why his client, a wealthy lord, decided to offer him a night of pleasure on the house instead of simply tipping him like any normal client would.

“I was hoping it would be something more tangible.”

“It is the experience that is priceless, young man! Now why don’t you go and take a seat? I owe my friend a great deal of favours and this is the least I can do.”

“I-um…I’m not really sure about this.”

“Listen my boy, it is only for a night, let yourself have this. You have worked very hard even as a child.” the swordsmith flinched at the reminder, briefly recalling the many sleepless nights he spent in the lobby of this very building, waiting for his master to finish his business so they could return to their modest abode at the foot of the mountain. Jaehyun’s mind drifted back to the only home he’d ever known in Hanyang. The place was now nothing more than a decrepit hut hardly fit for anyone to live in and he knew that he would find it already occupied by illegal dwellers if the place hadn’t fallen apart yet. He had been planning to stay at some cheap lodging until he was rested enough to look for a proper accommodation anyway and this way, he was saving himself the trouble and cost. Figuring it was the most logical solution, Jaehyun followed the owner to the sitting area after toeing off his _jipsin_ , setting his bags down and folding his legs under him on the cold wooden floor of a sparsely decorated room.

Through the thin walls, he could hear the general chatter of a small crowd next door, the smell of food wafting over to where he was sat. He remembered the establishment doubling as lodging, the guise effective enough that for a long time Jaehyun believed it was just that and nothing more. He almost snickered at his own childish naiveté.

“Yoonoh?” A young man entered through a back door, carrying with him a tray of tea that he set in front of Jaehyun. It took Jaehyun a couple of seconds to recognise the boyish face, the honey skin and the familiar lilt to the young man’s words. There were only so many boys their age who had been allowed in the establishment back then and this person had the very valid excuse of being the owner’s son.

“Donghyuck?”

“You remember me! I never thought I’d see you again!” There was no mistaking it now when the boy’s face stretched into a grin he had been well acquainted with as a child. Jaehyun used to hate that look, knowing the mischief that came with it but now, he was thankful for anything remotely familiar. The boy sat next to him, bubbling with excitement, “my father told me you’re a free man now and that you go by a new name.”

“That’s right. You may call me Jaehyun.” It had been his birth name, at least that was one of the few things he remembered from the brief time he’d spent with his birth family. It was his former master that had given him the name Yoonoh and the satisfaction of reclaiming the identity they had stolen from him had almost topped the actual experience of buying back his freedom.

“You’re so tall now. You were always very tall but look at you, a proper man.” _No longer a slave to anyone_ was what Donghyuck likely meant but was too cautious to say. Jaehyun smiled nonetheless, genuinely amused at the other’s energy.

“I want to say the same about you, although I’m not at all surprise that you didn’t grow much. I told you, all those evil deeds were bound to stunt your growth.” The younger gaped at him, only mildly offended.

“You wouldn’t say that when you hear about how popular I am amongst the girls.” Jaehyun scoffed, not bothering to argue further. He brought the cup of tea to his lips, taking controlled sips lest the other say anything inappropriate at that moment. He wouldn’t put it past Donghyuck.

“Say, will you be staying in Hanyang permanently?”

“For now, that’s the plan, yes. This place is the only home I’ve ever known.”

“I’m glad. I really am, _Jaehyun_.” The name rolled off the younger’s tongue naturally and a comfortable silence settled between them as Jaehyun finished his tea and Donghyuck took in his old friend’s state of clothing and the bags he had beside him on the floor.

“Are these all of your things? I can put them in storage until tomorrow for you. For now, would you like to take a look at your choices?” Jaehyun was thankful that Donghyuck wasn’t giving him anything more than a knowing smile for his purpose there. He was probably used to seeing all sorts of people frequent their business that nothing surprised him anymore, not even an old friend he never thought he’d see again.

“Am I supposed to see these choices face to face?”

Donghyuck chuckled as he ushered Jaehyun to stand and follow him, “No, that’s not how it works. Normally, I would give you names and ages but patrons don’t get to see them face to face until the choices have been narrowed down. I can make an exemption for you though, if that’s what you want?”

“That won’t be necessary.” They went up a narrow staircase that led, presumably, to the quarters he would be spending the night in, “and I’m not looking for anything in particular.”

“I figured. This seems to be your first time doing this.” The shorter man slid the doors to a room open, revealing a bedding in the middle of a fairly spacious room, incense burning in a corner “These are the quarters for the clients that spend the night and that was what father’s friend had requested for you. This is also where you will be serviced.” Jaehyun took a tentative step into the room, appreciating the warmth it afforded.

“We have young women who have just recently come of age, and then we have the seasoned ones who have been in the business for long.” Donghyuck continued while he watched Jaehyun peel off the outer layers of his clothing, all of which needed washing. The river should be a comfortable enough temperature in the day for that purpose.

“Like I said, I’m not really sure about this.” The older let out a deep sigh as he crawled towards the bedding, seeking the kind of comfort he had not the luxury to for many moon cycles while he travelled across the kingdom.

“Well…those are not the only options.” The young man uttered his next words almost too quietly, letting himself into the room where Jaehyun was now comfortably settled, “My father…he got himself an interesting acquisition not too long ago.” Donghyuck took the swordsmith’s silence as his cue to continue, “A foreign, male slave.”

—

Yuta rubbed his calloused hands together before blowing into them for warmth. They had a long way to go before the colder months set in but even the mildest weather in Hanyang was enough to rattle Yuta’s bones, his body still not used to the mountainous kingdom’s harsh temperatures. He straightened up after he’d warmed up enough and grabbed a half-full bucket of water in each hand. The master wouldn’t be too pleased with him if he was late, no matter how many times he reasoned that the well was too far for the amount of time he was given to finish his daily errands.

The smell of ash and smoke drifted towards him as he approached the back entrance to the brothel and Yuta sighed internally at the sight of his master casually leaning against the wall, “Go and clean up, you have a client.” he said around the pipe in his mouth, the man not giving Yuta the chance to speak, retreating inside as quickly as he’d appeared.

His knowledge of the native tongue was basic at most but he didn’t need to be told twice to know what the older man had meant. It was the purpose for which he had been taken from the battlefield where he was supposed to die — to satiate the lust of men and women who seemed to enjoy nothing less than his agony. It didn’t mean that he had taken it in stride; despite having no immediate rights as a person in this kingdom, he made sure to let the master know where he drew the line, when he first came to the brothel. They could whip him, tear his back into ribbons, but they would never take away what little remained of his dignity.

Donghyuck, his master’s son, was a kind boy, albeit playful, and he easily made friends with his father’s most stubborn slave to date. The boy had approached him with a remorse in his eyes, tending to his injuries and reassuring him with kind words that his father was not so evil as to force him into their _business_ , especially if he continued to throw fits, but that meant that he would be sold to hard labour instead and it would take much longer for him to buy back his freedom.

 _“It would only be for a while. You’re too hot headed for my father to keep anyway and there are far more crueler masters out there, unimaginably worse than my father.”_ The boy soothed in a soft voice Yuta had not been addressed with since he was sold into slavery and the rare show of kindness was enough for the Japanese man to lower his hackles.

That had been a long time ago and yet the memory of his first time lying with a man, one twice his age, still prickled his skin, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He had known for the first time what it was like to be broken and even now he feared there would be nothing left of him by the time he was ready to sail back home to his family, if he would even live to see that day.

After dumping the buckets’ content into a barrel in the kitchens, Yuta quickly made his way to his own private quarters where Donghyuck should’ve placed the clothes he ought to wear. After putting his long hair into a neat braid and changing into a clean, colourful _jeogori_ , Yuta made a quick work of applying a thin layer of makeup over the imperfections on his skin, dabbing peach powder across his lips. He never looked like himself every time he was done.

Donghyuck was already heading down the stairs from the guest quarters by the time Yuta was ready. He’d given the older man a quick once over and then a small smile, “The client is an old friend. He shouldn’t be so bad.” The boy reached out for Yuta’s shoulder comfortingly. The Japanese appreciated the gesture despite how little it helped.

Yuta eventually reached the doors to his last client for the day and quietly, he sank to his knees, bowing his head as he had been taught to do, “Sir, may I come in?” He uttered the memorised words, hoping the message came through his thick accent. There was no response and a few minutes later, he voiced the same request, this time a little louder. When the second time didn’t fare any better, Yuta softly slid the doors open and took in the sight of his client sprawled over the bedding, already in deep slumber.

The man didn’t look all that much older than him and nothing like the well-to do patrons who were dressed in silk from head to toe. In fact, this man’s clothes didn’t look all too different from what little Yuta owned, it was a wonder that he was even able to afford staying the night. Meekly, he let himself into the room, quietly closing the doors behind him and approaching the sleeping figure with slight trepidation. Fair-skinned and tall, the man was the definition of striking, but even the most innocent looking ones harboured the worst of demons, Yuta knew this by heart by now.

Slowly, he eased the client’s socks off each feet, placing them in a corner before moving up the bedding to carefully undo his threadbare _jeogori_. Yuta wasn’t sure if his actions were entirely appropriate, he’d never had a client sleep through his service before and he figured getting him more comfortable was the least he could do lest he complained to the master later on. Yuta was in the process of sliding the man’s arm free from the garment when he’d started to stir, sharp, almond-shaped eyes blinking awake in an instant.

Not wanting to spook the other into doing anything drastic, Yuta pulled away, kneeling a good distance away from the client with his head in a deep bow and his hands flat on the floor. He dared not look in the other’s direction and he didn’t need to, to know that the other man was now studying him with bleary eyes.

“Are you…the one attending to me?” The man asked, voice still heavy with sleep.

“Yes sir.”

“Why don’t you come closer?” Yuta nodded, his gaze still fixed to the floor even as he made his way closer.

“Can I see your face?” Normally Yuta would scoff at such request, repulsed at the idea of having to keep eye contact with patrons who cared very little for him, but there was something about the way the man had worded his request. He seemed to be aware that Yuta was not native to the kingdom and had paid careful attention to speak slower. His voice was deep in a soothing way, rich and smooth like honey. Yuta couldn’t help but be embarrassed at the way this man had him completely enthralled with just his voice. He lifted his head up, already expecting the near perfect features the man possessed. He’d had a good look at him as he slumbered.

“What’s your name?”

“Yuta.” He responded monotonously. It was the same question he got from most patrons.

“Your real name?” Yuta startled at the question. That was one thing he had never been asked about. Clients hardly cared if they were moaning his real name, not when it didn’t add any value to their experience.

“Re-real name.” He parroted, stumbling over the foreign words. A strange look came over the man’s face but it was gone as soon as it came.

“My name is Jaehyun.”

“Jae-hyun.” The name was a little harder to pronounce, the syllables rolling clumsily off his tongue. Jaehyun didn’t seem to mind, if anything, he had a small smile on his face now.

“Yes, Jaehyun. Now, do you know how to give a massage?” Yuta cocked his head at the question. Surely this man didn’t come here just for that. He only had an hour and half with Yuta before he was expected back at his quarters.

“Your time…is okay?”

“Yeah, I mean, if you don’t mind…” Jaehyun nodded, shrugging off the clothing Yuta loosened up for him, revealing bare, flawless skin that didn’t seem to fit well with this man’s obvious status. Without further ado, Yuta crawled behind the other, retrieving scented oil from his pocket. It was not how the oil was intended to be used but he couldn’t care less as he kneaded the hard muscles on Jaehyun’s back with inexperienced fingers after brushing the small ponytail out of the way. He had been doing well going by the little grunts of pleasure from his client but Jaehyun had a broad physique and Yuta quickly realised that giving someone a massage was infinitely more work than he expected as his fingers began to cramp after a few minutes.

“Take break.” He mumbled, squeezing a meaty arm one last time before sitting back against the bunched up blankets.

Jaehyun had swivelled around in that moment, watching Yuta with unreadable eyes, “Are you alright?”

“Yes, alri-“ The response died on his lips as Jaehyun reached out to take his hands, using his bigger ones to massage them, paying careful attention to each finger. Yuta stared at him wide-eyed, mesmerised, first by the kindness of this stranger and second by the sincerity of his actions. No one had ever treated Yuta this gently before, “not hurt,” he tried again, after clearing his throat and yet Jaehyun continued to tend to his hands like they were made of something precious. He felt blood rush to his face and he quickly ducked his head to hide how much the small action affected him.

Not only was Jaehyun physically attractive, but he was a decent human being too. Somehow the idea of sleeping with him didn’t repulse Yuta as much as it should and it felt horribly inappropriate that he would physically desire a man who paid for his services yet a part of him hoped Jaehyun would continue his ministrations.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were not trained to do that.”

“Is okay…”

“It’s fine to tell me when it’s not okay.” the man breathed, his proximity and the gentle touch against Yuta’s labour roughened hands sending shivers down his spine. It was nothing like the disgust he felt every time a patron lifted his clothes out of the way, nothing like the sickening twist in his belly every time they pressed their lips on his skin. Yuta finally lifted his gaze, braving a look into those dark, smouldering eyes. There was nothing lecherous in the way this man looked at him, instead he found genuine fascination and curiosity. They were close enough that Jaehyun’s breath fanned over his lips, but there was no rush in his actions.

This close, Yuta could see how red the man’s ears had become and an unexplainable surge of fondness filled in his chest. Jaehyun slowly closed the distance between them, his quick, laboured breathing and jittery touch giving away his nerves as he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the side of Yuta’s lips. It was the first time he had been kissed there; it was terribly intimate and completely unnecessary between a patron and a whore, and yet when Jaehyun reluctantly pulled away, seemingly worried that he’d crossed a line, Yuta’s grip tightened around his arms, “is okay.” he found himself saying and truly meaning it. For the first time in a very long while, it felt okay.

Jaehyun didn’t need to be told twice, hands coming up to wrap around Yuta’s slender neck, oily from contact with Yuta’s own, drawing him into a kiss that he would trail down the attendant’s jaw to his throat, right above the collar of his _jeogori_. Fumbling with the ribbon, Yuta slid the clothing down his shoulders, baring his skin for Jaehyun to mark on top of the many others. It had been a while since he’d last felt conscious of the evidence patrons would purposely leave on his skin and yet Jaehyun kissed over them like they were nothing more than a birthmark.

“Can I?” the slightly bigger man tugged at the binds of Yuta’s _sokjeogori_ at his approval, sliding them off as they came undone and letting Jaehyun’s eyes feast on his exposed nudity, “you’re beautiful.” he whispered against the dip of Yuta’s collarbones as he gently coaxed the attendant into hardness. Tears gathered in Yuta’s eyes, the sensations overwhelmingly unfamiliar. No patron had ever taken the time to bring him pleasure and he had never wanted them to, but Jaehyun was different. His own hands wandered down, tracing over the man’s still clothed length, hot and heavy under Yuta’s touch. He heard the sharp intake of breath and felt Jaehyun tremble with every slide of his hand before the other eventually pulled away to rid himself of his _baji_ and _sokjeogori_ in one go.

Jaehyun’s face was stained red as soon as the last of his clothing were discarded in a corner. Yuta couldn’t help but be drawn to the man’s flesh as it strained against his pale, toned belly. It was thick and long, beautiful as the man in front of him. He reached out with tentative touches fuelled by Jaehyun’s steady strokes. “The oil…” Jaehyun’s voice remained steady but it bellied his excitement as he moved to capture Yuta’s lips into another kiss.

Yuta fumbled for the small bottle of oil that had tipped over in the heat of their pursuit, leaving a growing stain on the bedding. After coating Jaehyun with what little oil remained in the bottle, he reached between his legs to prepare himself, the other man following his every move with half-lidded eyes, one hand sliding down his back to grasp Yuta’s hips. “Come here.” Jaehyun gently commanded, hand still pumping Yuta languidly between their bodies, encouraging him forward into Jaehyun’s lap.

The slighter man groaned into the crook of Jaehyun’s neck as the latter’s hand on his hip dipped lower and Yuta’s legs tightened around Jaehyun as his fingers were pulled out of him completely, Jaehyun’s longer, slimmer fingers taking its place, pumping in and out in a leisurely pace. The digits withdrew gently and Yuta had done this enough times to know what came next. Lifting himself on his knees, he wrapped both arms around the taller man’s shoulders, bowing forward to give the other better access. He felt the stiff nudge against his entrance, the vibration from Jaehyun’s chest as the latter let out a shaky breath before his cock breached him open, sliding into Yuta’s tight heat an inch at a time. The man trembled with the obvious need to pound into the pliant body on top of his but his impeccable control putting a tight lid over his desires as Yuta took laboured breaths to try and relax around him, a skill he had needed to learn early on as part of his job.

Yuta eased down gently, letting Jaehyun sink deeper into his heat, feeling every pulse and twitch of the thick flesh. Jaehyun’s hands found purchase on Yuta’s waist, almost completely encasing it as he set a slow pace of shallow thrusts while Yuta adjusted. Tearing his gaze away from the erection pressed between their bodies, Jaehyun let out a breathy cry as Yuta tightened around him, “Can go…faster…” the Japanese panted against Jaehyun’s skin, goosebumps on his skin as the painful stretch melted into something more pleasurable. The man screwed his eyes shut, snapping his hips up almost too hard, earning an agonised moan from Yuta.

Every low grunt from Jaehyun’s throat went straight down Yuta’s dripping cock, straining against the hand Jaehyun had come to wrap around him in time with his erratic thrusts. The Japanese man had started to feel the slight burn in his thigh and he knew that Jaehyun’s hand on his waist was bound to leave bruises but he couldn’t care less for all those details. He ached for this man, for the way his cock brushed against that spot inside him, the velvety feel of his heavy sac as they rubbed against Yuta’s skin. The pleasure finally tipped him off the edge and Yuta came with awhimper, going rigid against Jaehyun, his hips rolling slowly with purpose. Jaehyun squeezed his length one last time, making a mess between their naked bodies with Yuta’s seed, before his own body convulsed with a sharp grunt. His cock swelled in the tight heat of his partner before Jaehyun spilled, pouring into Yuta and coating his insides with his essence. The deep growl that followed had Yuta reaching out to tangle his hands into the messy long hair at the back of Jaehyun’s head, massaging the tender scalp as he came down from his high.

Jaehyun twitched under him as he rode out his orgasm, still pumping in and out of the slighter man with his softening length before completely pulling out. Yuta felt his seed drip out of him as soon as he climbed off Jaehyun, letting his client collapse back onto the bedding with a soft pant, “That was…wonderful.” the deep baritone of his voice brought Yuta back to reality and while he didn’t entirely understand the word used, it was easy to tell it had been something positive, with the admiration clear in the man’s face.

“Thank you.”

He crawled over to the bucket of water provided in the corner of the room, grabbing a rag from beside it and began cleaning himself, wiping traces of their union from his stomach and between his legs. After he was done, he fetched another clean, damp rag and brought it over to Jaehyun, who hadn’t moved an inch from where he was sprawled. Slowly but thoroughly, he cleaned the man down, noting the bright flush in the pale skin. He knew Jaehyun’s eyes were on him, watching him with heavy lidded eyes as he paid careful attention to the man’s now flaccid, equally flushed length. A hand wrapped around his wrist, urging him closer, rag still in hand.

Yuta knew from the moment this man had first laid eyes on him, that he was going to be different. Despite their positions, he was treated with respect, handled like he was worth more than a few coins. For the first time in a long while, Yuta was made to feel human. Yuta knew in that instance that something in him had shifted and the feeling both scared and thrilled him.

With a nervous smile on his handsome face, Jaehyun softly asked, “May I kiss you?”

And Yuta leaned down without hesitation.


	2. seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've drafted almost half the story at this point but I didn't intend to edit them this fast. Alas, YuJae is too powerful.
> 
> Here's some very significant development to their relationship!

The following weeks passed in a blur for Jaehyun who had to relearn the ways of living in the capital. Using what remained of the money he had saved from his travels, he purchased a small, run-down hut at the foot of a mountain next to a small stream. There were a lot of works needed to be done to make the place liveable and Jaehyun was thankful for the brief distraction it provided, especially when his thoughts were unexplainably plagued by a certain doe-eyed man. Still, there would be no helping the moments when the swordsmith would let himself look back on that night with a wistful look on his face. The memory of fleeting touches and accented words a compelling force on its own.

Gradually, Jaehyun had come to acknowledge his growing disinterest in the prospect of laying with another despite the number of fair women approaching him to seek companionship. Not too long ago, he would have entertained the idea, yearning for intimacy and reprieve from long hours of solitary hard work. The young swordsmith was not so naive as to deny this sudden change in him, he knew the answer was in the shape of a man residing in a brothel in the northernmost part of the city, dressed in colourful clothing to the satisfaction of countless men. The image was enough to send a trickle of longing to his belly. Jaehyun was pining after a man, a foreign slave, and the truth couldn’t be more unsettling.

The days were quickly becoming shorter as the cold began to envelope the city, a reminder that it had been a long while since he had visited the brothel. While business was not particularly booming, with less soldiers patrolling the streets after the truce with Japan, Jaehyun had inadvertently found a way to make money outside swordsmithing. He would accept commissions to craft knives for hunters and butchers at the market and had set up a small space where they could find him since his hut was too far away from the bustling part of the city. It had not taken long for him to earn enough to afford another visit at Donghyuck’s, which he begrudgingly let himself have despite knowing that he was only letting himself fall into a deeper pit.

“I somehow knew you would be back.” Donghyuck’s mouth curled into an irksome smirk, his teeth on full display. He looked satisfied with himself, like he had won a bet; it was this side of the younger man that Jaehyun didn’t miss.

“Did you, really?”

“Not only me. I think Yuta has been hoping you would be back too.” The words struck something in Jaehyun, who visibly tensed at the mention of the foreign man’s name, “that is, if you’re here for him of course.”

There was a short moment of silence where Jaehyun mentally debated if he really was ready to face the man whose dolled up face frequented his dreams for many nights following their first meeting. It didn’t take him long to come to a conclusion, “I am…here for him.”

—

Yuta looked exactly as he did in Jaehyun’s memories. He had the same bright _jeogori_ on, his hair and makeup were done the same way. The swordsmith did note, however, that his manners had become more refined and his words clearer and spoken with more confidence as he greeted Jaehyun at the doorway to the guest quarters. Recognition flashed in his eyes and there was no doubting the relief in there as well when Jaehyun beckoned him closer so he could study his features more intently, committing every detail to memory.

The last time, Jaehyun had been too tired and nervous to get a proper look at the foreign man but now there was no way he could tear his eyes away from the slighter man’s full lips, his prominent cheekbones and expressive, downturned eyes. His face was distinctly foreign in its appeal and it somehow suited the rest of him like a perfectly crafted scabbard to a sword.

“How old are you?” Jaehyun found himself asking, curious with how much the other had improved on his speech and also because he didn’t look any older than Jaehyun himself.

“My twenty sixth year was a few moon cycles ago.”

“You are older than me then, but not by much. Where are you from?” Jaehyun had a vague idea from the sound of his name but wanted to hear it from Yuta himself. There was something about the way the man spoke that made Jaehyun want to hear more.

“I am from Japan, from a city to the south of Heian-kyo.” There was a short pause as Yuta eyed his reaction, seemingly expecting to be scorned over that one significant detail. The recent invasions of the Japanese was still fresh in the minds of the people, which explained why Donghyuck tried to avoid giving away details on Yuta’s identity. Yet, here was the man himself, laying it all out for Jaehyun to judge. He was surprised to note that this new discovery did not put him off Yuta even the slightest bit,

“I was a soldier for the Japanese army before I was captured in Busan…” _and sold into slavery,_ Jaehyun easily filled in the rest. He knew from personal experience what it was like to be at someone else’s mercy but he and Yuta were vastly different; he had grown up a slave and Yuta was forced to be one at a much later stage in his life. This man had been an honourable warrior at one point. It was a wonder he had not taken his life yet, like many of his people had upon falling into the enemy’s hands.

“I was once a slave too…” Jaehyun didn’t know what prompted him to say the words, what he did know was that Yuta had bared a part of himself to him, a complete stranger. He trusted him with something precious and it was only right that Jaehyun returned the favour, even if the memories it brought back were nothing to be proud of. _You will pull through, just like I did_ were the words that he wanted to say but didn’t have the courage to.

Those bright, round eyes widened in understanding, a small smile gracing Yuta’s lips and Jaehyun’s breath was caught in his throat. He had never seen a more beautiful sight before. It didn’t seem like he needed to say anything more, after all.

“Thank you, Jaehyun.” Yuta whispered softly, his tone earnest and the name rolling off his tongue perfectly, as if he had uttered it over and over until he got the vowels right. That night, Jaehyun had embraced the other man with a passion that rivalled that of a flaring furnace, his memories doing little justice to the arch of Yuta’s back and the grip of his thighs around the younger’s waist as he came with Jaehyun’s name on his lips.

—

Winter had come to Hanyang earlier that year and Jaehyun was faced with the reality that his craft may be one that was on the verge of decline, with the dwindling demand for swords and the rise in imports of muskets. He knew that there were only so many wealthy lords and soldiers willing to pay a fortune for a good _geom_ and Jaehyun would not risk forging one from anything less than high grade steel. No matter how deep his passion for swords ran, he could not let himself go hungry or risk not being able to see Yuta for more than weeks at a time so he would stand in his usual place at the marketplace, selling daggers and knives instead of melting irons.

During one of his good days however, a servant of a _yangban_ had approached him with purposeful look in his eyes. The boy reminded him of his past, being the same age as he had been when he used to run errands for his own master.

“My master would like for you to make him double edged sword, he promises to pay you handsomely for your services of course.” Jaehyun nodded, the iron ores he had back in his home were enough for one last _geom_ before he had to source for more.

“I will need time. Your master will have the sword by the next new moon day.”

“My master is a patient man, sir. I will pass the message and be back to check on the progress in a fortnight.”

The servant boy had given given him a bag of _mun_ as advance payment for his service. It was not a lot but enough that Jaehyun would have no need to stand at the marketplace for at least a couple of days. It also meant he would be able to visit Yuta earlier than planned.

“If my master is happy with the sword, you can be assured that he will bring you more business, good sir. He is a very influential man.” The boy added for good measure before leaving, and Jaehyun didn’t doubt his claims, looking at how well he was dressed for a servant of his age and by the fact the he seemed to know how to read if the scrolls he carried were anything to go by.

“Very well, your master will have only the best.”

Jaehyun pocketed the coins with a contented sigh. He would be seeing Yuta that evening.

—

When he had taken up Donghyuck’s passing recommendation on that first night, he hadn’t expected to be completely enraptured by a few stuttered words and the honest desire pulsating from the pleasure slave. His affections that had only grown since then, did not go unnoticed because Donghyuck had approached him with warnings many times since, _“He is still a slave, Jaehyun. He is expected to service men that aren’t you. I worry that you will only be hurt.”_ It had been easy to tease him about it when Donghyuck hadn’t been aware of how deeply seated his infatuation had become.

Jaehyun liked to believe that he knew the consequences of becoming attached to someone whose life was not their own but as he watched Yuta limp towards him after another patron’s visit, the bitterness would only root deeper. Yet, it didn’t stop him from holding the older man with the same fervour as their first night together.

Yuta’s spoken _Joseon-mal_ had only improved since, and he could now easily hold a decent conversation albeit with the occasional mispronunciations; it made it all the more easier for Jaehyun to know him better, to learn the story behind every scar carved onto his body. It made it easier to see him less as just a passing fascination and more of a person whose life had been stolen from him and had only just began to live again.

 _“It was the injury that made me vulnerable for capture.”_ Yuta carefully explained when Jaehyun pointed to a particularly long gash on his side, now faded into a barely noticeable stripe a few shades lighter than Yuta’s skin tone.

 _“And you never took on a different name.”_ Jaehyun stated in return, the question having lingered at the back of his mind for a long time.

 _“Because I asked to keep my real one. Even if I am to be dishonoured, I do not wish to hide behind a false identity. Because these, too,”_ The Japanese man gestured to the marks on his body, the product of many lewd men’s exploits, _“are my battle scars.”_

After that particular conversation, Jaehyun regarded Yuta with more respect and admiration. Yuta had a strong resolve and was brave in ways Jaehyun couldn’t be. Yet, the knowledge didn’t take away the heartache every time the swordsmith had to walk out of the brothel alone, leaving Yuta to his fate until the next time they saw each other.

“I have doomed you, haven’t I?” Donghyuck quietly said one time, with Yuta out of earshot.

“Perhaps.”

—

The servant boy stayed true to his words and visited Jaehyun’s hut to take a look at the sword. It didn’t resemble one yet, but the boy seemed pleased with the progress and announced that he would be coming back with his master on the first day of the new moon. He had been busy since then and what little time he had to spare was used to visit Yuta. Jaehyun was aware that this might be the last sword he would forge before he would be forced to look at other means of earning money unless the boy’s master made good on his promise to bring in more important clients for him, so he put his all into making the sword as close to perfection as he could manage.

Another night soon found coming back to the brothel where he found Yuta in front of it, carrying buckets filled with water. This was the first time he saw the other outside the confines of the guest quarters, not wrapped in colourful clothing for once, and his face not caked in layers of powder. Yuta saw him approach from afar because he set the buckets down, face lighting up. This was the sight Jaehyun looked forward to the most during his visits and his sole motivation for coming back each time.

“Jaehyun!” The shorter man called out excitedly before his energy drained out in an instant, panic settling for no apparent reason. Jaehyun was about to reach out to take one of the man’s hands in a way he knew comforted the other when Yuta brought both of them up to cup his face, “I’m not wearing makeup. I’m sorry.”

The taller of the two huffed out a laugh, not nearly loud enough to cause Yuta to be further embarrassed, “What are you sorry about? I think I like you more like this, I see your features better.” Jaehyun brought his hand up, brushing away Yuta’s own hand to caress the soft skin of his cheek, noting the multitude of moles peppering his face and a particularly prominent one under left his eye. He immediately felt the heat pooling beneath his touch before Yuta ducked his head in mock annoyance.

“You’re not allowed to touch before paying.” The man said firmly but in obvious jest, his lips twitching into a smile as he pulled Jaehyun by the hand. “It’s very cold, come and warm up inside.” After rubbing his hands on Jaehyun’s arms in an effort to warm him up, Yuta left to prepare himself and Jaehyun was quickly joined by a grinning Donghyuck who brought him hot tea, apparently at Yuta’s request. He’d finished it in a heartbeat, placing the cup back on the tray Donghyuck had brought with it.

“Back so quick? It’s almost like you plan to monopolise Yuta’s time.” Jaehyun scoffed at the accusation, knowing the younger wasn’t far off the mark. “I have to say I’m impressed though, my father’s rates are not exactly cheap. I hope you aren’t starving yourself, Jaehyun.”

“Of course not, business is simply doing better these days.” That wasn’t completely true, he had definitely skipped meals before in favour of seeing Yuta.

“If you say so. At this rate, Yuta will be a free man sooner than you think.”

“Would you say…” The swordsmith trailed off, upset with himself that he let Donghyuck’s harmless words affect him but being able to help the curiosity gnawing at him like a bad itch, “…that he’s a popular choice amongst patrons?”

“Well, he is the only male attendant in this place and there are more stuck up, rich men with such preferences than you would think.” Donghyuck looked at him apologetically before leading him up the staircases to the guest quarters, “either way, Yuta is bringing in good money for my father right now and it won’t be long before he’s made enough to earn his freedom.” Jaehyun nodded and recognised the reassurance for what it was. There wasn’t anything Donghyuck could do for them other than sympathise, and in this cruel world they had been brought up in, that was enough.

“Thank you, Donghyuck.”

“Anyway, off you go. He’s been waiting for you up there.”

—

“May I see some of your works?” Yuta’s finger lazily traced the wispy hair on Jaehyun’s chest, another feature unique to the young man he had come to adore. He had long since come to terms with the fact that he longed for Jaehyun like a lover would and he had the gratification of knowing that Jaehyun felt the same way without the need for words to be exchanged between them. Yuta’s life had been a hollow existence since he had arrived in Hanyang as a pleasure slave but Jaehyun came into his life and diminished some of the sadness. Now he had something he could look forward to between the men he serviced when they were apart.

“The swords? Well I have an unfinished one in my hut that is due to be collected soon. I can show it to you whenever you’re free.” Jaehyun’s deep voice vibrated against his chest where Yuta was half lying on. He loved the sensation and secretly wished he could wake up every day to it.

Once a soldier himself, Yuta couldn’t help his curiosity towards the swords Jaehyun made for a living. He knew that he catered to some of the wealthiest clients in the city including palace guards, before he left the capital to travel across the kingdom. Donghyuck made sure to tell him these on days when he waited patiently for news of Jaehyun’s visits. The boy always looked conflicted at the reminder of his strange relationship with his old friend but never said a word to discourage him.

“Really?” The idea flooded him with warmth. A day with Jaehyun outside the confines of the brothel. He would ask his master for permission, even if he had to accommodate more patrons to make up for it. He could do that for Jaehyun.

“Yes, why not? You are one of the only people I would show my works to.” Jaehyun’s cheeks dimpled with his smile and Yuta loved every second of it. He brought the hand that had been playing with the other’s chest up to poke at the little indent. Jaehyun caught his wrist and pressed kisses against his knuckles. A sudden rush of emotion filled his chest. He didn’t deserve Jaehyun; kind, hardworking Jaehyun who had never shown Yuta anything but affection, who had never failed to visit him despite making barely enough money for own needs.

“You are something else.” He said instead, raising his body enough so he could slide down Jaehyun’s own, lips tracing a downwards path from the younger man’s toned belly to the still sensitive flesh between his legs. He had never pleasured a patron with his mouth willingly before, but with Jaehyun, the idea was an irresistible one. He could barely stop his mind from picturing the younger man with his cheeks flushed, panting against the bedding. Parting his mouth around the head, Yuta delighted in the soft mewl he was rewarded with, Jaehyun’s long fingers tangling with Yuta’s hair.

—

Somewhere in his mind, Jaehyun knew that Yuta had to pull some strings to be allowed a day off from the brothel and he had hoped that the older man hadn’t done anything too drastic in exchange for time to be with Jaehyun. He picked him up from the brothel at day break, taking in the sight of Yuta dressed in a plain, cotton _hanbok_ , his long hair in a bun at the base of his neck, under a _paeraengyi_. Like this, he looked nothing like the man Jaehyun came to know between the sheets, and he found this new side of Yuta equally alluring.He had taken the foreign man to the marketplace first, after finding out he had only been there a couple of times, all of which were on an errand. Yuta stopped a couple of times in front of a few fruit peddlers, asking Jaehyun for the right word in _Joseon-mal_ for every little thing his eyes would land on and repeating each syllable with awkward precision. Jaehyun found the effort endearing and he fought the urge to take Yuta’s hand and intertwine their fingers. That would only earn them scorn under the eyes the watchful public.

They had taken the short route through the narrow stream that fed into the Han river, watching tile roofs turn into thatched ones and found themselves in Jaehyun’s hut before midday. Yuta was surprisingly fit, not voicing a single protest even as they walked miles uphill. Inside the very first home he could call his own, Jaehyun watched Yuta take in the bare, unfamiliar walls made up of straw and earth, the single bedding in the middle of the wooden floor and the cushions stacked against the wall beside a small table, surveying every detail like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. It was definitely a far cry from the brothel’s guest quarters.

Finally giving in to his desires, Jaehyun took Yuta’s hand, delighting in the little squeeze the slighter man gave him in response before he led him towards the space separated from his living area. The furnace was still warm from its use the night before, clay water and ash leaving a mess on the work table where the blade of a nearly finished _geom_ glinted in the daylight filtering through the small window. It was missing just the hilt.

“It’s beautiful.” Yuta had said in wonder, tugging Jaehyun closer by the hand so he could hear the sincerity in his voice. A proud smile lingered on Jaehyun’s lips while he watched Yuta trace his fingers across the blade. Normally, he would balk at the idea of letting someone else touch his unfinished work but he found that Yuta’s eager excitement gave him a kind of satisfaction he had never gotten from even his highest paying clients.

“Do you find them different from Japanese swords?” He knew that at some point in Yuta’s life the _katana_ had been his closest ally. He had seen his fair share of Japanese swords while he was travelling, especially in the aftermath of the invasion. Being near one probably meant more to Yuta than he could imagine.

“They are very similar actually, only this feels a little lighter, maybe thinner.”

“Do you miss it? Wielding one?” Jaehyun found himself asking after Yuta had gotten his fill of Jaehyun’s works, dragging the man back into the confines of his living area, away from the smell of molten steel and clay.

“I don’t. I have seen enough bloodshed in my time. I will be happy just to be a free man.” The tinge of sadness in his voice squeezed at Jaehyun’s chest. Impulsively, he gathered the other in an embrace and immediately felt Yuta’s arm wrap around him in return.

There was no doubt that Yuta would leave this place as soon as he was able to. Somewhere out there, he had a family to return to, a mother who waited and a father who hoped. Yuta had a life he can live beyond that of a slave’s, while Jaehyun only had Yuta. There would be no reason for him to stay in Hanyang, not in the city that enslaved him and took away his honour.

Yuta had only known grief and suffering here and whatever awaited him across the sea would be infinitely better than anything Jaehyun had to offer. He knew it would be asking for a lot to wish for Yuta to stay but as he lowered the man onto his floor, his gaze never leaving those round, onyx eyes, he knew that there would never be another like him again for Jaehyun.

—

As days morphed into weeks and snow started to fall in flurry across Hanyang, Jaehyun found himself falling deeper into the abyss of his longing for Yuta. It was reckless, what he felt for Yuta, but at the same time it was exhilaratingly new and encompassing. Jaehyun would never have imagined that he would feel that way for another man, let alone of foreign roots.

The _Yangban_ who had commissioned the sword had finally come to pick it up with his servant on the day Jaehyun promised that it would be ready. The man was a lot younger than he had expected, he was shorter than Jaehyun with his hair pulled neatly into a top knot protected by a _gat_ and he was dressed in a patterned silk _dallyeong._ A government official, albeit a very young one. Taeil was his name, as his servant cared to inform Jaehyun while his master studied the sword and Jaehyun quickly noted that the man, despite his status, travelled to his hut by a horse instead of a _gama_.

“What magnificent work, one would think this was crafted by a royal swordsmith. You are years ahead of your time, young man.”

“My former master was renowned for his work, I learned everything I know from him.”

“How curious, that he would pass down such important knowledge to a former pupil instead of his own descendants.”

Jaehyun cleared his throat, quick to correct his client, “I was not his pupil, I was his slave and he did not have sons nor daughters.” Taeil nodded. While his clothes were obvious indication of his status, he didn’t seem to be any more proud than the usual learned man.

“I see. Tell me Jaehyun, is there anything else I can give you? You have given me something of greater value than what you have charged me. I can have my servant deliver anything you might want to your door.”

Taeil’s offer further proved Jaehyun;s initial impression of him to be true. The man held a significant position of power and yet he spoke to Jaehyun like he had not just found out that the swordsmith was a former slave. Perhaps there was hope for this kingdom after all.

“I can definitely think of something, if you don’t mind waiting a little bit before you depart.” He responded in earnest. Silence stretched between them as the older man brazenly studied the swordsmith in front of him with a peculiar glint in his eyes. Jaehyun could never have predicted the next words from the _yangban_ ,

“Actually, we might be seeing each other again sooner. Jaehyun, what do you think of forging a sword for his majesty?”

—

Yuta watched Jaehyun cross the distance between the doorway and the small window where Yuta was sitting next to with the biggest smile on his face, the deep little indents on both of his cheeks a prominent and endearing detail.

“I come bearing gifts!” The younger man announced enthusiastically. It was always a wonder seeing the normally reserved swordsmith this excited. Yuta resisted the urge to reach out and pinch his full cheeks between his fingers, it was a habit he was not very proud of but a hard one to deny, the softness of Jaehyun’s skin reminding him of a red-bean filled rice cake he used to eat back home.

“Did you go anywhere?”

“I couldn’t have, Yuta. I’ve been coming here every few days.” The swordsmith chuckled, setting down a small bag by Yuta’s folded legs and undoing the ribbon that kept the items inside from tipping. A small, unassuming wooden box sat in the centre; it was something that was not completely unfamiliar to Yuta but he could hardly believe that such a rare and expensive commodity in Japan would be in Jaehyun’s possession.

“How—?”

“Remember the client who commissioned that sword you saw at home? He turned out to be a highly important person. He offered to give me anything on top of his payment.” The Japanese man blinked, lowering his head. Jaehyun always went too far for him and his heart hurt at the the reality that he could do nothing for him in return, “go on then, open it.” Jaehyun continued softly, a careful finger tilting Yuta’s head up by the chin, perhaps sensing the Japanese man’s turmoil.

Following the other’s instructions, Yuta took the wooden lid off the box and straight away, the scent of powdered green tea wafted towards him, coaxing buried memories of his home to the surface.

“There is more…” reaching into his pocket, Jaehyun pulled out a small wooden carving which he eagerly thrusted into Yuta’s free hand. It was a carving of a cherry blossom, the wood dyed in bright pink and meticulously sealed with varnish, a simple white tassel hanging from it. “I made that, hoping it would ease your loneliness even if only a little bit, especially when I’m not beside you.”

“Oh Jaehyun…” he called out softly, unable to bear the weight of his affection for the younger man. The swordsmith’s eyes softened in response before he was caught off guard by Yuta tackling him to the floor, the manners his master had ingrained in him gone at the height of his emotions, “Jaehyun, Jaehyun, you make me feel too much.” He cried out against his lover’s clothed chest. Yes, lover. The word felt like a trickle of water down a parched throat.

“And you do the same to me. I take it you like my gifts?”

“You shouldn’t do all these for me.”

“Why not? If it makes you happy, how can I not?” The long fingers carded through Yuta’s hair. He knew how much the younger man loved it when he let his hair loosely fall to his shoulders and down his back, claiming Yuta looked the most stunning when he was not meant to look perfect, “Now can I get a kiss in return?”

The request had been made in jest, it was obvious with the way Jaehyun’s shoulder shook with barely restrained laughter and yet the words were strangely reminiscent of their first night together. When the younger man had asked for the same thing back then, they had no idea what they were getting into. Without another word, Yuta cradled the back of Jaehyun’s neck and pressed their mouths together, welcoming Jaehyun’s muffled moans and wandering hands with equal intensity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was it? hope you enjoyed the calm before the storm :)
> 
> also, red bean paste filled rice cake = mochi. Yes, Jaehyun is Yuta's mochi.


	3. six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand the storm is here. So this is where I have to warn you again to read the tags properly. The uglier side of this fic will be more in focus from here.
> 
> Like I said, non-con and dub-con scenes will not be written in details but they will be implied here and there, and also because it's gonna be one of the main plot drivers for this fic.
> 
> I edited this but as always, I might've missed something so I apologise in advance for that. I look forward to read your comments too ;u;

The Japanese man lifted himself up on his knees, peering up at Jaehyun with wonder in his eyes as the swordsmith told him about Taeil’s proposal. He wrapped an arm around the shorter man’s waist to draw him closer, still basking in the afterglow of their intense lovemaking, “if the king is impressed, I will be rewarded a big sum.” He breathed, sinking his nose into the ebony hair behind Yuta’s ear, “and then I will give you back your freedom.”.

Yuta stilled in his hold before he pulled himself away from his lover, “Jaehyun…that money is yours, all your hard work…”

“It doesn’t matter. The only thing I desire is that you live a life you are happy with.” And it didn’t matter if Yuta wanted to leave, Jaehyun came to a realisation. He would let him, if that would bring him happiness. There would never be a truly safe place for Yuta in Joseon — not as a Japanese soldier, and especially not as a man who sought comfort from another man — and even if it would break his heart, Jaehyun would rather them part than see him hurt again.

Jaehyun was not so naive as to think that he would be able to afford Yuta without a considerable sum of money; he had gone through he same thing before, except he was not a source of income for his former master, Yuta was different. Jaehyun would not only be paying for Yuta, but also to compensate for the revenue the brothel would be losing.

—

Jaehyun counted the days to Taeil’s next visit, hoping against all odds that the fates would grant him this opportunity, if only for the chance to buy Yuta’s freedom. His wait didn’t stretch long and Jaehyun was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief when he came back home to the young official standing at the door of his hut one evening, his servant holding the reigns to the horses the older man preferred to travel with.

“The king has seen your work, Jaehyun, and he expects your presence in the palace in four days’ time.”

The message had been brief and Taeil had quickly left after making sure Jaehyun had gotten all the details, but its impact lingered. The days leading up to the nerve wracking visit to the palace were filled entirely with apprehension and general unease. Not many ordinary citizens were granted an audience with the king, so Jaehyun had no idea what to expect and was not nearly educated enough to prepare for such an important meeting. He had no choice but to blindly rely on Taeil’s guidance, sensing no ill intent from the older man. He liked to pride himself as being a good judge of character and his relationship with Yuta was a strong point.

“You seem very at edge.” His older lover casually commented while he watched Jaehyun secure the straps to his _baji_. It had become too cold to stay in the nude no matter how much Jaehyun appreciated bare skin contact with Yuta. The Japanese man on the other hand didn’t seem all that bothered despite the goosebumps that covered his arms.

“Try very nervous. I don’t want to be sent to my death for acting inappropriately in front of the king.” He sighed out loud and almost regretted his words when Yuta’s brows furrowed with genuine worry.

“That could happen? Could he really have you hanged over something so trivial?”

“I don’t actually know, but I wouldn’t be so confident either. The king’s words are absolute and I am just a common man.” Jaehyun startled at the sudden movement but easily melted into Yuta’s touch, as the latter cupped his face in his palms.

“Then please be careful. Return to me safe and healthy.” Jaehyun held the Japanese man’s wrists, turning his head to press a lingering kiss on each palm. Yuta pushed his naked body closer, his skin warm against Jaehyun’s uncovered chest.

“I promise.”

“I will hold you to that.” Yuta perked up suddenly, pulling away from Jaehyun so he could properly look at him, “Ah, I just remembered, I was told that a new male slave will be arriving in a few days.” this caught Jaehyun’s attention. For a long time, Yuta had been the only male attendant at the brothel and Donghyuck had reasoned that his father had specifically meant for him to bring in a particular type of clients, the well-to-do, middle-aged patrons who had a taste for young and androgynous men.

However, there were not nearly enough of them for the brothel owner to have to purchase another slave, especially not when they had plenty of young women to cater to the more general cliental and there were not many male slaves who possessed the kind of features that patrons preferred.

“Does that mean…?”

“Yes, that’s right. Donghyuck confirmed it, he talked his father about selling me to you and it seems he is considering it. This might be a sign that he’s preparing to let me go.” Yuta grinned from ear to ear and promptly let out a small yelp when Jaehyun’s fingers dug into his sides in excitement. He pulled the shorter man into his lap, back to his chest and his arms snaking around the older’s waist. Yuta looked ready to admonish Jaehyun for manhandling him before he went quiet in the wake of Jaehyun’s next words.

“You will meet your family again soon then. You won’t need to stay in Hanyang anymore.”

“Jaehyun…” Yuta’s finger’s found his lover’s, still wrapped across his belly. He intertwined them before he continued, “I was thinking…perhaps, I can stay here…to be with you.” Jaehyun’s eyes widened and he must look silly with his jaw hanging open, unable to form a word in response. Relief flooded him, the burden of uncertainties and his personal insecurities with his relationship with Yuta finally easing off his shoulders. The fact that his companionship mattered more to the Japanese man than the constant bouts of homesickness provided a much needed solace to Jaehyun’s tortured heart. Maybe there was a future for them here, in Hanyang.

“Do you really mean that?”

“Yes, of course! I will sail to Heian-Kyo once I’m free, to let my family know I’m safe and to say my goodbyes…and then, I’ll be back to you.” Jaehyun wondered if Yuta could feel the way his heart hammered against his chest or the desperation in his touch when he held his lover, lips against the skin on Yuta’s neck.

“Yuta, are you sure?”

“I have never been more sure of anything in my life.” Yuta exhaled softly, melting into Jaehyun in the most intimate manner, all the while never letting go of the younger man’s hand, “My future was bleak and for a long time I believed that this will be how I would die. But then, you came into my life that one night, and gave me hope that I never thought I’d ever have again. You taught me that there is more for me than this loathsome and pitiful life.” Jaehyun silently looked back on the many nights where Yuta would ask him for stories of his past, from the day his parents were brutally murdered by bandits and he was sold into slavery to the moment he finally freed himself from the shackles of his past. The realisation of what those stories meant to Yuta felt like a splash of cold water and a soothing lullaby at the same time.

“I’m glad…I really am, Yuta. I will make sure you never regret it.”

“I _know_ I won’t.”

—

Taeil and his servant had accompanied Jaehyun in the morning of his visit to the East Palace, riding on one of the official’s horses towards the _Donhwamun_ gate. The royal guards had been thorough with their check, carefully studying the name plate Taeil had provided for him before they were allowed to dismount and enter the palace grounds. Jaehyun had never before been privy to anything as grand as the sight he witnessed as they made their way to the king’s residence, passing a group of court women on their way. The stone halls were remarkably foreign and Jaehyun grew exceedingly more nervous as they ventured into the inner court where the king supposedly awaited his arrival.

He knew they had reached their destination when Taeil drew to a stop in front of a heavily guarded building. The servant boy visibly stiffened at the guards’ approach. After being checked for weapons, Taeil had quickly ran him down on the general etiquette expected when meeting the king, “don’t look him in the eye, keep your head bowed at all times, do not speak until you are allowed to.”

“Understood.” Taeil might have recognised Jaehyun’s unease because he patted him on the shoulder comfortingly, a kind smile on his face.

“You will be alright, Jaehyun.” The swordsmith could see his servant nodding earnestly behind Taeil, tight-lipped but enthusiastic in his attempt to cheer Jaehyun on. The guards eventually took him away from the two, leading him into the king’s residence and towards his bedchambers. The extravagance displayed in every corner of the residence had taken his breath away at once; Jaehyun wondered, briefly, how Yuta would react to such a sight, If Jaehyun’s rundown hut had been enough to get him excited. The thought brought a small smile to his lips, enough to calm some of his nerves.

“We have arrived,” The guard informed Jaehyun flatly, “I trust official Moon has educated you on the proper way to speak to the king.” The swordsmith nodded in affirmation and the doors were slid open in front of him as the guards urged him towards another set of doors separating him from the king. He could almost make out a silhouette from his current position. Immediately, Jaehyun sank to his knees, folding his legs under him and bowing his head forward, low enough to touch the back of his palms that he had on the floor.

He heard the guards announce his arrival before the second set of doors were slid open, following Taeil’s instructions, he crawled forward into the room until he was a reasonable distance from who he assumed was the king without looking up.

“You are the swordsmith official Moon talked about.” The voice was deeper than his own, laced with neutral detachment. Distant and unfeeling, were the first thoughts in Jaehyun’s mind and he had not even had the chance to see the face behind the voice yet, “you may speak.”

Taking that as his cue, Jaehyun clenched his teeth, willing himself not to stutter, “Yes, your majesty. I am here to offer you my services if you would give me the chance.”

“How long have you been forging swords?”

“Since I came of age, your majesty. My former master was a renowned swordsmith and he had passed down the knowledge to me.” Silence answered him and Jaehyun was almost tempted to take a quick peek at the man whose authority remained palpable despite the absence of words.

“Lift your head.” The command came a few heartbeats later, sharp and precise, leaving no room for question. Slowly, Jaehyun did as asked, taking in the ostentatiously decorated room for the first time without making eye contact with the king. He didn’t need to see the man’s face to know that he was being scrutinised down to the last strand of his hair. The king moved in controlled coordination, drawing closer one breath at a time.

He had anticipated it and still, the rough fingers that gripped Jaehyun’s chin, didn’t fail to startle him, forcing his eyes to meet the king’s. The man was everything he imagined a Joseon king would look like; big, imposing and cold. His eyes impassive and his beard covered a good portion of his face but it didn’t hide the slight upturn of his lips upon the close inspection of the swordsmith’s face. Jaehyun had never before felt such a fierce urge to recoil.

“Tell me your name.”

“It is Jaehyun, your majesty.” Jaehyun didn’t bother masking the tremor in his voice.

“You will craft me a sword, it will be made with only the best of metals and decorated with the finest gems.” The king removed his hand from Jaehyun but the latter knew he hadn’t imagined the purposeful drag of his thumb across his jaw. His stomach knotted in trepidation.

“Do you think you can accomplish that, Jaehyun?”

“Yes, your majesty.”

—

“Taeil, is it customary for the king to casually touch any commoner?” Jaehyun voiced the question to the official as they rode away from the palace, his young servant riding a few paces behind them, out of earshot.

“Not at all. In fact, even seamstresses are not allowed to lay a hand on the king.” Came Taeil’s answer. He had a strange look on his face, one Jaehyun had come to recognise as an attempt to read him, “Did something like that happen today?”

“No, nothing of that sort.” The swordsmith lied through his teeth, pretending not to see the lingering looks Taeil sent his way.

By the time the palace was but a speck in the distance, Jaehyun was left with unsettlement churning in his gut and a crippling urge to be near his lover. He wanted to hear Yuta’s kind voice and relish in his determined but careful caress in hopes that they could wash away the feel of the king’s fingers on his skin.

Briefly, Jaehyun wondered if he had made a terrible misstep.

—

It was many days after his visit to the palace when he found messengers from the king carrying ores of gold and steel waiting at his doorstep. It had been a jarring reminder that there was no turning back for him despite his indecisions. 

Deciding that a visit to his lover was long overdue, Jaehyun dragged himself to the town centre after securing the valuable package in his hut. It was later than his normal visiting time and the snow fell unrelentingly the entire day, but he badly needed the kind of comfort only Yuta was able to provide. Except, comfort was the last thing he found when he walked into a scene of mayhem at the brothel.

Two of the workers were dragging a thrashing, bloodied man down the familiar narrow staircase, the stench of alcohol overwhelming as the patron screamed in barbaric fury, “That bitch! That fucking Japanese whore! I’m gonna put him in his place!” Dread settled in his stomach after making sense of the man’s words and Jaehyun took big strides to where the man had come from without bothering to brush the snow off his clothing, his _jipsin_ leaving a wet trail that he would surely be berated for later.

Donghyuck was already running down the steps, quick to hush the female attendants who had started to fill the corridor to see what the commotion had been about. Looking at the state of the patron's undress and the direction from which he had been hauled from, it wasn’t hard to piece together what could have transpired.

“What’s happening?” He inquired anyway after Donghyuck finally noticed his presence.

“Jaehyun…” The younger’s brows furrowed into a frown and when it seemed like he couldn’t find the right words to use, Jaehyun groaned out loud, passing Donghyuck and hurrying up the staircase with renewed urgency. He arrived to a small crowd of female attendants gathered outside one of the quarters.

Yuta emerged from the doors, followed by a taller, lankier boy with a flushed face and tear-filled eyes as Jaehyun made his approach. The Japanese man’s hair was in disarray and his clothes looked like they had been pulled at violently. Jaehyun’s stomach sank, especially when his eyes caught the shadow of a bruise on the side of his face, “Yuta!” The other boy flinched at his tone but Jaehyun didn’t have the time to worry about the new face when his lover was in obvious distress.

“Jae—“ He brushed past the people, pulling Yuta into a brutal hug that seemed to help calm the other more than overwhelm him because he had stopped trembling and his breathing starting to even out. It must have been something serious if Yuta was this rattled; in the time they had known each other, Yuta had been proud and strong, refusing to show even the smallest sign of weakness towards the worst of his oppressors.

“What happened!?”

“The patron became violent and forced himself on Jungwoo. Yuta arrived and fought back.” One of the girls that had been standing outside supplied while Yuta remained silent, face buried in the crook of Jaehyun’s neck, hands curling into fists on his sides. Despite it all, he wasn’t crying. Jaehyun noticed the blood on his knuckles but it was hard to tell if they were the vile man’s or Yuta’s own.

“Jaehyun, you shouldn’t be here!” Donghyuck piped up behind him after finally catching up with his taller friend, “I know you want to see Yuta but I have to settle things here first before my father arrives.” The swordsmith’s arms tightened around the attendant possessively as he muffled the frustration of being powerless against Yuta’s demons. He felt the latter push against his chest reluctantly, a silent plea for him to let go. _I’ll be fine_ , Yuta would always tell him, refusing to shed tears for the likes of those disgusting men, never once asking for sympathy or help. If Yuta would not cry, then Jaehyun would hold his hand and share his pain so he wouldn’t need to take all of them on his own. The swordsmith went in for another brief embrace, hoping it was enough to send the message, _‘I’m here for you’._

“Donghyuck, take care of him, will you? I’ll wait downstairs.” His hands remained clutched on the garment of Yuta’s _jogeori_ , physically unable let go. Donghyuck met his gaze, uncertainty swimming in his eyes.

“I’ll do my best.”

—

The next time Jaehyun saw Yuta that day was back in the Japanese man’s own quarters, after Donghyuck had settled everything peacefully. It would be the first time he would see the other man’s living space since patrons were not allowed there. It was pure luck that Jaehyun was friends with the owner’s son. Donghyuck had briefed him about what happened after he too, had calmed down. The new boy, Jungwoo, had been at the receiving end of a violent patron’s unwanted advances after having too much to drink. He was new and didn’t know how to properly handle the situation, and Yuta, simply happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, never one to ignore another’s cry for help. Chaos ensued quickly when Yuta barged into the scene, throwing the inebriated man off Jungwoo and easily overpowering him, laying waste on his face in a fit of anger.

 _"We are lucky, the patron he attacked was a common man. If he had, by any chance, been someone of a higher status, Yuta would now be in detainment, awaiting his death.”_ Donghyuck told him mournfully, as he led his friend to his lover.

It was not the first time a patron had gone overboard, but Yuta had never reacted like this before, even faced with his own, equally hateful clients. Jaehyun wondered if it had something to do with the fact that Jungwoo looked so young and helpless or if it was something more deeply rooted. The swordsmith made sure to approach his lover with quiet, measured steps, once they were alone in the safety of Yuta’s room, afraid he would trigger another panicked response. Yuta was sitting with his face away from him, looking at his reflection on the small mirror in the corner of his room.

“How are you feeling?” He softly asked and saw Yuta’s rigid shoulders relax at the sound of his voice before the man patted the space beside him on the floor. He quickly joined the older man and watched as his gaze softened at the sight of the swordsmith.

“Bad but better now that you’re here.” Jaehyun smiled, feeling better now that Yuta seemed to have returned to his normal self. There was sadness in his eyes but Jaehyun would take that over the crazed look he witnessed earlier.

“I would never have left you earlier if you asked me to stay.”

“But the master would have been furious. He could have banned you from seeing me and that would have been much worse.”

“I would have found a way.” The swordsmith insisted, reaching out to gently trace the bruise on Yuta’s face, now hardly visible under a new layer of powder, “I would always find a way.”

He saw Yuta’s mouth twitch. An effort to keep his emotions in check. A pregnant silence settled between them, before the Japanese took a deep breath, as if mentally preparing himself for what he was about to reveal.

“My first time with a patron had gone as well as Jungwoo’s.” The look in Yuta’s eyes was too vulnerable and Jaehyun suddenly felt like he was intruding on a very personal moment, “I didn’t understand the language as well back then, and I was stubborn, resisting my fate until I was physically reminded of the purpose I was brought here for.”

“Yuta…”

“I’m sorry…that was too much, was it?” The older man looked pained, uncertainty swimming in his eyes but Jaehyun didn’t let him dwell on his insecurities long, pressing a gentle and lingering kiss to his forehead and hushing him softly.

“No, no, Yuta. Look at me and tell me about it, all of it. I’m here now…you have me now, Yuta.” Yuta’s eyes softened at his words, the tension ebbing from him slowly. He nestled into the heat Jaehyun provided, eyes closed and hand clutching his lover’s sleeve like a child in need of comfort. Jaehyun had never seen him like this before, so fragile and yet unbreakable. He knew at that moment, that he would give everything for this man, even if it was at the expense of himself.

“Jaehyun…these…they are not easy to hear.”

“And still, I would listen.” Jaehyun sealed the words with a kiss, sweet and slow.

—

The day for Jaehyun to come back to the palace had come quicker than he wanted. The king demanded that he was updated on his progress with the sword and Jaehyun was not in any position to disagree. This time, Taeil would not be there to support him, instead, the king’s guards had escorted him the entire way, keeping a beady eye on him and the precious package he carried on his back. They travelled to the palace close to midnight to minimise chances of bandits attacking, that was what they told him, at least.

His last interaction with Yuta had left a yawning impression on him. While he had assured the older than he would listen to his pain, there was no helping the bitter resentment he felt towards Yuta’s patrons and his own powerlessness. In his current position, there was nothing he could do to help his lover, entrusting him every time to the care of his young friend who also had hardly any control over the kind of people that frequented the brothel. The thought that Yuta had to lie with men that was not him was already a harrowing fact to swallow but it was only made worse by knowing what kind of pain these monsters put Yuta through.

“His majesty has been waiting for you.” The guards at the door to the king’s chambers informed him in a clinical tone. Their gaze lingered on him and Jaehyun recognised it was a different kind of assessment from his last visit.

As he let himself in the first set of doors, he noted the notable absence of guards there and when he finally passed through the last set of doors, he was even more befuddled by the king’s state of undress; he was in his inner wear, the heavy _gonryongpo_ missing. Immediately, Jaehyun’s eyes dropped to the floor, reeling from his own slip.

“Show me the sword.” Relief flooded Jaehyun when the king made no mention of his earlier mistake. Carefully, he reached for the package on his back, laying it flat on the floor where he began to unwrap the bindings. The sword had not been polished, the steel still rough in some areas but it was already the right length and thickness. The king seemed satisfied with it going by the lengthy hum he let out.

“Now put it away and come closer.” Jaehyun had expected to be dismissed after the king had assessed the sword, not beckoned forward until his knees were only a hair’s width away from touching the king’s. From his new position, eyes still trained away, he could hear the king’s heavy breathing and the faint rustle of clothing.

“Your majesty?” Jaehyun breathed out in panic, confused and alarmed. He was still not given the permission to look up so he could not tell what was coming. Unconsciously however, the recognised the signs. Horror dawned onto him when his eyes caught the king’s hand hover over his own _baji_ , palming himself in front of the swordsmith without remorse.

_No, no, no_

“You have such pale, beautiful skin.” Cold settled in Jaehyun’s stomach at the words, his body going rigid in response. He flinched when the inevitable touch came, cradling his face so he would have to watch the scene in front of him. The unfamiliar thumb pressed between Jaehyun’s lips, barely touching the edge of his bottom teeth before they retreated, travelling down his chest; the king’s intent now obvious.

He silently wondered if this was how Yuta felt every time he was taken by a patron against his will. Did he also feel bile climb up the back of his throat as foreign fingers sank into the folds of his clothes? Did he also hold his breath hoping this was a nightmare that he would soon wake up from? Did he bite his lip hard enough that he could taste the coppery tang of blood as it painted his tongue? Jaehyun would not taint his memory of his lover by imagining these hands as his, not when they brought out only abhorrence and loathing in him.

Despite his trembling that the king no doubt noticed, those unwanted touches continued their descent down his now bare skin as his clothes were haphazardly pulled away, his tormentor uncaring of his conflict and of the whimpers he instinctively let out. In the silence of the night, Jaehyun helplessly realised that no one would be able to hear his cries and no one would have cared.

“Hold still.” the king ordered, his voice steady, harsh, unforgiving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not entirely helpful information, but the East Palace referred to in this fic is the Changdeok. The period this fic is set in is after the last of the Japanese invasions, which means the main palace of Gyeongbok had already burned down. Also, the king in here is unmarried with no children, and is very, very loosely based on King Yeonsan (yes, the same king from The King and The Clown).
> 
> Another fun fact, did you know that feudal Japan was inherently more accepting of homosexual relationships than Joseon Dynasty? This interesting difference can be traced back to their beliefs. Feudal Japan's main religion was Shintoism, which viewed sex positively regardless if it's between the same sex, while Joseon followed Confucianism, which was more strict about the topic of sex and saw homosexual relationships specifically, as wicked.
> 
> In short, ancient Japan said gay rights


	4. five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The comments from the last chapter uwu thank you so much for the feedback! I love reading them, especially since the parts near the end of this aren't completely plotted yet and might change depending on how chap 5-7 works out. 
> 
> We are officially halfway through, with this chapter. The next ones will come a little slower because I want to make sure this fic ends how I want it to. :)

“Is there something wrong?” Yuta’s hand drew circles on Jaehyun’s back as the man downed the fifth cup of soju he had served him like it was water. His lover paid him no heed, already reaching for the bottle for another serving, “you look very tired.” _and agitated_ , Yuta thought in concern as Jaehyun continued to avoid his eyes.

It had been a while since Jaehyun’s last visit and it was the longest they had been apart yet. Still, Jaehyun had said nothing when he marched into the brothel doors looking for Yuta. No explanations and none of the curious stories he always brought along. The Japanese man knew that Jaehyun didn’t owe him anything; he didn’t have to tell Yuta everything that went on with his life, but Jaehyun always chose to, because it was his nature to be endlessly thoughtful. Yuta also knew that his lover would never purposely worry him if he can help it, but he was in no position to dig for answers from the younger man.

He would give him time, if that was what Jaehyun needed. Yuta, of all people, would not push Jaehyun away by forcing him to talk. When he didn’t get a reply yet again, Yuta reached out to take the alcohol from his lover’s already trembling hands, setting it carefully to the side, out of Jaehyun’s reach. He then gathered his lover to his chest, holding his heated face as close to his heart as physically possible.

Yuta sighed in relief as he watched the rigidity leave Jaehyun’s body, “I want to be inside you.” his lover’s breath tickled the skin above Yuta’s _jeogori,_ his tone alight with unmistakeable longing. Jaehyun was rarely this forward and the Japanese man was sure it was the alcohol that lent him this boldness and yet the words easily brought colour to his cheeks. Briefly however, he worried what this meant; was Jaehyun seeking comfort from something?

Despite his qualms, Yuta was quick to shed his clothes after he had manoeuvred Jaehyun into a comfortable lying position on the bedding. He climbed up his lover’s body, straddling Jaehyun with his knees on either side of the younger’s waist to take most of Yuta’s weight. He reached out to undo the straps holding the younger’s _jeogori_ together when Jaehyun’s hands seized his wrists at once, halting his movements completely, “I’m cold. Let’s do it like this.”

Jaehyun’s words confused him. His lover had never before denied him the feel of his naked skin against his and was always enthusiastic about sharing body heat with Yuta as the days grew colder, especially in the heat of their passion. Yuta would never question him though, so he pulled his hands back and began to work on Jaehyun’s _baji_ instead, freeing his lover’s arousal from its confines without pulling the fabric all the way down. The swordsmith let out a ragged sigh at the action, his hands gripping Yuta’s hips as the latter prepared himself for his lover with the salve he meant to use to massage the tension out of Jaehyun’s muscles. This alternative should work just as well.

Impatient, Jaehyun’s nails dug into the skin of Yuta’s hips, his own involuntarily bucking up as the smaller man coated his cock with the slippery substance, “Hurry…”

“Soon, my love.” Yuta leaned forward on his elbows to press a kiss on Jaehyun’s moist lips, tasting alcohol when the other opened his mouth to let Yuta’s tongue plunge into the heated cavern. The older man opened his eyes enough to see the lust burning in Jaehyun’s half lidded gaze; it was better than the look of utter dejection in them earlier. Yuta delighted in the moan he let out before he broke the kiss with a nip on the swordsmith’s bottom lip.

Yuta threw his head back as he positioned himself, guiding Jaehyun’s cock to his entrance and sliding down on the length with measured patience. Jaehyun’s head lolled to the side, drool running down his chin as his hands travelled up Yuta’s thin body to circle his nipples, already stiff from the cold.

“Want you, want you…”

Yuta didn’t need to hear the words, he could feel Jaehyun’s desires thrumming under his skin. He raised himself halfway before sinking back down slowly, dragging a whine from his younger lover. His own cock was stiff against his stomach, already dripping with need, fuelled by Jaehyun’s attention on his chest.

Steadily, Yuta built up the pace with minimal help from his intoxicated lover, bouncing on Jaehyun’s lap fast and hard, his back arching in ecstasy as Jaehyun spilled into his body in hot spurts, “I want only you…” The swordsmith growled when his hands joined Yuta’s own around his still stiff cock, bringing the older man to completion in just a few strokes. He sounded angry, Yuta noted under the haze of pleasure, angry and hurt.

—

The memory of their last night together played over and over in Yuta’s head as he tried to go about his daily routine. The disruptive thoughts wrecking havoc in the form of clumsy mistakes while doing his duties. He had been reprimanded sharply by his master, reminded that it hadn’t been long since the chaos he caused on Jungwoo’s first day, and subsequently comforted by Donghyuck who immediately picked up on his internal conflict.

 _“Is it about Jaehyun? Are you two fighting?”_ the boy had asked in concern and frowned in confusion when Yuta denied the idea in one breathing, _“then why was he so drunk when he left the last time?”_

Yuta deflated at the question, not knowing the answer to it himself. He had a vague idea that it had something to do with Jaehyun’s visits to the palace but it could easily be something else too, his lover was a busy man who worked too hard and met all different kinds of people daily. Jungwoo, who had easily latched onto him after the incident, also noticed Yuta’s increasingly despondent mood, especially as days dragged on and there remained to be no signs of Jaehyun.

“I’m worried I upset him somehow.” Yuta admitted to his fellow slave as he helped patch up the younger’s bruises with makeup. It was always heartbreaking to see someone as bright as Jungwoo slowly dim under the unforgiving nature of their work but the boy was resilient, much like Yuta, and he liked to believe that one day, this boy would be able to gain his freedom back without losing his identity.

“It can’t be you. The first time I saw him, he looked ready to take on the entire world for you. I don’t think someone like that will hold a grudge against the person they cherish.” Jungwoo’s words were kind and soothing and Yuta quickly realised how badly he needed the reminder. Joseon did not take very kindly to relationships between two men, at least not in the same way they did back in his home country, so having someone like Jungwoo around him was a welcome reprieve. The taller boy received his relationship with Jaehyun better than anyone had. Donghyuck had too, but it was obvious that he avoided any discussions about it, only bringing it up when it concerned his work or Jaehyun and Yuta’s wellbeing.

“That is true. Jaehyun is too kind to make me suffer knowingly. I guess I am just stressed because I can’t do anything to help him even if I knew what’s wrong.”

Jungwoo gave him a subdued smile, “That is not true…I’m sure you help him in many ways.” the younger gestured towards Yuta, “and sometimes it’s enough to just be there.”

Yuta understood, remembering how liberating it had been to let Jaehyun hold him as the truth of his profession spilled from his lips. For a long time, he couldn’t trust anyone, couldn’t let them in, but Jaehyun changed all that gradually. He only needed to trust his lover and believe that he too, can open up to Yuta the same way.

“You speak such wise words that I forget that you’re a lot younger than me.” The Japanese man chuckled softly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind Jungwoo’s ear after making sure that the marks on Jungwoo’s skin were completely covered.

“These are not my own words! A special someone said those to me before I was taken to Hanyang.” The subsequent blush on the young man’s face was enough to give away his feelings towards this person.

“Your girlfriend?” Yuta piped up unapologetically and if it were possible, Jungwoo’s face would’ve burned more at his words.

“N-not really…I was planning to ask for her hand in marriage, before, you know…” The boy stammered before he trailed off sadly.

“Oh Jungwoo…” He gathered Jungwoo’s bigger physique into an embrace, wrapping his arms comfortingly around the broad shoulders, “promise me you will get out of here, and then you are going to confess to that girl.”

Jungwoo nodded against him, “You too, Yuta. Leave this place and be happy.”

—

There were not many opportunities for Yuta to go out for many reasons, one is that his duties often kept him locked up in the guest quarters for almost the entire day, and the rest was because his master didn’t trust him enough to send him on errands without him running into trouble, a recurring incident it may seem every time he so much as look in the direction of the doors. That was why he had been ecstatic to be out when Jaehyun took him to his hut.

He had proven himself to be a quick learner and was quickly becoming more reliable save for his few unwarranted slips recently, so when one day his master grumbled about all the girls being booked for the day with no one to send to the marketplace, Yuta had volunteered, ignoring the frown on his master’s face at the realisation that he would have to let Yuta go unless he wanted to run out of supplies for the kitchen.

“Remember what I told you, don’t get into any trouble and don’t lose my money.” The master reminded scathingly as he watched Yuta bundle up for the cold outdoors.

“I will be careful.” He assured, for once taking it to heart.

He welcomed the distraction the little shopping trip provided as he longed for Jaehyun’s next visit. He knew it would be soon and he wanted to be in the best of moods when the time came, not wanting to weight Jaehyun down with his own worries.

As he had promised, Yuta tried not to stray from his path, picking up the items his master wanted in a systematic order. While he couldn’t read written _Joseon-mal_ , he prided himself for being good at remembering things and had diligently committed the shopping list to memory. He took his time the most near the fruit and fish peddlers, naming the things he wanted with deliberate care. Jaehyun would be proud if he heard him now, because Yuta remembered every word he taught him, even the ones difficult to pronounce.

Once he had gotten everything he needed, Yuta made his way back to the brothel, or at least that was what he would’ve done if he didn’t witness a man snatching another man’s bag in broad daylight, running past the throng of shoppers and through thick snow with practised ease. No one seemed to care enough to stop him, despite the victim’s pleas for help. The culprit likely belonged in the same crowd that surrounded them, as Jaehyun once told him in many of his stories about Hanyang’s notorious pickpockets.

Yuta should not get involved, it would be going against his master’s warnings and it could very well land him in more trouble than the last time he acted on impulse. Still, he couldn’t help the way his body naturally responded to danger and he soon found himself quickly trailing after the distressed victim who had ran after the thief. The bag must contain something valuable if this person would risk his safety following a criminal in the dodgier areas of the city, past winding alleys and towards the foot of the mountain.

Neither the thief nor the poor guy had noticed Yuta following them, and it was to his advantage, especially when they’d reached a dead end and the man was surrounded by what Yuta could only assume were accomplices. There were three of them and they held a knife to the poor man’s face as he begged to have his bag back. Carefully dropping his own shopping bag to the ground with as little sound as possible, Yuta approached in a crouch, hiding behind empty wooden barrels. He attacked as soon as he found an opening, going for the one with the biggest knife and the closest to the petrified man.

Trusting he had not completely forgotten his training as a soldier, Yuta ducked away from the group’s uncoordinated attempt at an attack, swinging the blade he snatched away with precise movements. He’d managed to make two of them bleed from cuts, the remaining tripping on their own feet as they threw clumsy punches at Yuta while the victim found the courage to start attacking them with a wooden plank he’d picked up from the ground.

“It’s not fucking worth it!” The leader, as it would seem, grunted, throwing the stolen bag to Yuta’s feet before running the other way along with the others. Yuta dropped the knife and picked up the discarded bag, approaching the poor fellow with the friendliest smile he could muster. Jaehyun always did say he looked intimidating when he didn’t smile.

“This is yours?”

“Y-yes…thank you so much for your help!” The man stuttered his greeting. He looked young, Yuta noted with a grin, and well off judging by the quality of the _dopo_ he wore. It was no doubt the reason he had been picked as a target by those thugs. The man was tall and slender and his eyes sharp and slanted but kind. He seemed a bit awkward too, with how he shuffled his feet in nervousness and the panicked way he threw the plank to the ground after making sure they were safe. He took the bag back from Yuta, sighing in relief after checking the content.

“Those must be very valuable.” Yuta commented absently, before peddling back at how it might’ve sounded, “not that I’m looking for any sort of reward of course!”

The man looked at him, really looked at him without shyly tearing his gaze away, and smiled, “You are not from here, are you?”

“Did the accent give it away?” Yuta couldn’t help but banter, just now getting used to making small talks with people who weren’t his patrons.

“That’s one thing, but mostly because no one from around here would have followed me this far to help.” The man took a tentative step closer, flipping the flap of his bag open to reveal several wrapped herbs inside, the stems peeking out from the binds, “these are rare medicinal herbs from the mountains. Some do not grow in Hanyang, so they are very valuable to me.”

“Are you a physician?”

“I’m an apprentice.” The man corrected kindly as he took in Yuta’s appearance in a subtle manner, perhaps trying to figure out why someone so painfully foreign would be in Hanyang’s busiest shopping area, “I know you said you do not want any reward but I wish to offer, still. After all, you’ve saved me months of hard work.”

Yuta contemplated the man’s words, an idea coming to mind, “In that case, since you say you are knowledgeable with medicines…” The request felt more embarrassing as the moment dragged on, “is there anything you can give to someone who is aching here?” Yuta pointed to his chest.

“Someone with heart problems?”

“No…emotionally.” Yuta willed away the blush he was sure was staining his cheeks before he continued, “you see, my lover, he is going through something and I don’t know how I can help.”

The onslaught of details seemed to have stunned the young doctor because he paused to regard Yuta with wide eyes before they turned into little crescents as his lips curled up in a smile, “Oh, unfortunately there isn’t anything I can give you for that. However,”

The man reached into the folds of his clothes, pulling a small, intricately decorated silk pouch out. The word _‘joy’_ was embroidered on it and Yuta easily recognised the familiar character.

“I have this. This is a _bokjumeoni_ and it’s supposed to bring good fortune and happiness to whoever carries it. It’s not much and I don’t guarantee it will work but it’s a delight to receive from someone you cherish.” Yuta cradled the gift in his hands with wonder.

“Thank you sir, you are too kind. I hope we will run into each other again in the future.”

The kind man nodded, brushing the dirt off his clothes before turning to Yuta with a wide, gummy smile, “And I wish the same as well. I hope the next time we meet, I can properly return the favour.”

When Yuta had returned to the brothel two hours too late all scratched up and the fruits and vegetables in a sorry state, he had gotten the screaming of his life, yet it didn’t take away the delight he felt as he held the pouch in his hands. While it may not take away Jaehyun’s burdens, he hoped it would at least make him just a little bit happy.

—

Jaehyun felt empty, beaten, used, despite his efforts to take his mind off _that_ night in the palace. He regretted having visited Yuta after, knowing that he had only made his lover confused and worried with the way he acted. Their lovemaking, against his hopes, had not been enough to silence his loud thoughts and his aching need to be rid of certain memories. It only further anguished him to lie to his clueless lover, fooling him with a false sense of peace.

So he decided to stay away, for now, until he was ready to face his lover. It was selfish of him, to push away the man he claimed to hold dearest to his heart over his own sensitivities, but he feared he would only hurt Yuta if he forced himself to act normal around him.

The next summon from the king eventually came and as much as Jaehyun dreaded the thought of ever stepping foot in that ghastly place again, it was either that or certain death for denying the king. It was day time when he was escorted into the king’s chambers again but it brought little relief to him who knew that no soul would have spared him a glance anyway if he were to cry out loud for help.

“I want you to finish the sword in the palace. You will be provided with your own quarters and everything you need to work.” The king had stated, leaving no room for questions. Jaehyun’s eyes remained on the floor, on a particularly interesting patch of wood that had become discoloured most likely from oil, the king’s words fading into the background.

“You will stay here for as long as you are needed,” _For as long as you want me_ , Jaehyun didn’t have to hear the words to know, and he could hardly control the shiver of disgust that wracked his body. His fingers were trembling and he curled them into firsts under his sleeves, “speak.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

—

It was becoming increasingly difficult maintaining a straight face in front of the man who assaulted him but Jaehyun knew what he had to do. He would not only be risking his life for going against a monarch but also those who he cared for. That too, was another reason to stay away from Yuta but Jaehyun didn’t think he was brave enough to do that. He would be lost, if he couldn’t have Yuta too.

The swordsmith was so deep in his thoughts that he failed to notice the man who had come to a stop in front of him as he walked away from the king’s residence in resignation. It was Taeil, dressed in his official robes, a significant portion of his face covered by his _gat_ , but one bigger than what he usually wore.

“Jaehyun. I have heard.”

The younger man felt resentment and betrayal simmer under his skin. Had this been Taeil’s plan all along? Had he unknowingly become an unwilling offering?

“Did you know?” Taeil seemed to be taken aback by the tone he used, having never raised his voice towards the _yangban._

“That the king fancies young men? Yes I did. However,” The official must’ve sensed the fury threatening to burst from Jaehyun’s control because he continued with an apologetic voice, “I didn’t think he would take you as one of his lovers—“

“He isn’t,” Jaehyun corrected harshly between gritted teeth, “I have a lover and he is not in this palace. I am no king’s lover nor am I a thrall.”

“Calm down, Jaehyun, I understand you are upset but it will not help to take out your anger here.” The official motioned to their surroundings and a cursory glance around them told Jaehyun that they had attracted more than enough attention from other palace workers. The official continued in a more hushed tone after he was sure Jaehyun had calmed enough, “I will help you get out of here. I promise you. I know you no longer trust me, but only for now, let me prove myself.”

Jaehyun tore his eyes from the shorter man, unable to look at him without feeling like he had been wronged. He needed time away from this place, at least before he was inevitably forced to return, for good next time. The swordsmith nodded sharply at Taeil, before walking away in hurried strides. He didn’t bother to turn back to see the perturbed look on the older man’s face.

Taeil’s servant had found him after the exchange, tailing Jaehyun out the palace gates like a lost dog. He wouldn’t be surprised if the boy had already been informed of what the king made him into, and the thought enveloped him with shame.

“I don’t want to hear anything else your master wants to say." Jaehyun found himself spitting and almost regretted it when the boy flinched at his tone.

“My master did not send me here to relay a message, sir. I’m here on my own free will.”

“You do not have a _‘free will’_ , at the end of the day, everything you do is in your master’s favour.”

“But that’s where you’re wrong sir. My master has never asked me to do anything I didn’t want. He took me in as a child and brought me up like his own, even going as far as providing me education. I am with him by choice, and not because he has hold on me. He is not like the others.” The boy continued, eyes shining with naiveté. Jaehyun envied him, both for his innocence and for his big heart, but their world is a cruel one and his kind would not last long outside the protection of the man he called his master.

“He may be just a stranger to you but know that he will never betray his words. Please believe in him, whatever it is he promised you.”

“What is your name?” Jaehyun found himself asking after coming to a stop, the boy following suit behind him. A part of him wondered in passing if things would’ve been different for him if his master had been anything like what this boy described Taeil to be. Would he be an educated man less likely to fall into carefully weaved traps like the one the king set for him?

“My name is Jaemin, sir.”

—

When Yuta walked into the guest quarters that evening, he hadn’t expected to find Jaehyun sitting quietly by the window. It was Yuta’s favourite spot in the room as it afforded him a view of the busy streets below. He would often find himself gazing into the distance, hoping for a glimpse of a familiar rosy-cheeked man approaching the establishment. It was interesting to see Jaehyun in that same place with a distant look on his face. Yuta wondered if this was how he looked to Jaehyun every time the man found him in that exact position.

“Jaehyun.” He called softly and watched the conflicted expression morph into a small smile as Jaehyun looked up at him. There were dark bags under his normally bright eyes, he seemed to have lost weight too, and Yuta ached to hold his lover but didn’t want to overwhelm him, “it’s been a while.”

“It has.” Jaehyun’s deep, velvety voice sounded ragged and tired, but he reached out towards Yuta anyway, beckoning his lover closer, “I’m sorry for making you wait.”

Yuta eagerly took up the invitation, taking measured steps to join the swordsmith by the window. At once, Jaehyun’s hand found his, tangling his long fingers with Yuta’s in a desperate hold. This close, Yuta could almost make out the younger man’s turmoil but chose not to speak about until Jaehyun brought it up himself.

“Don’t be sorry. I just want you to be well. If it means you can’t visit often, that’s fine.” Yuta soothed, squeezing Jaehyun’s hand in his.

“Many things have happened.”

“I can tell.”

“And I’m not sure I can tell you all of them.” Yuta’s heart sank at the defeated look on Jaehyun’s face but kept himself together. He had to be strong for both of them.

“I would not force you to, love.” the Japanese man reached into his clothes with his other hand, detangling the rope that held the charm in place. He pulled their joined hands into his lap, watching the confusion in Jaehyun’s face morph into understanding as he pressed the pouch into the younger man’s free hand.

Jaehyun titled his head to the side in question before bringing the pouch to his face to inspect it, “How did you get this? These don’t come cheap. _”_ Yuta knew they didn’t, not with the expensive silk it was made out of and the intricacy with which the character was embroidered.

“I helped a young man in the marketplace a couple of days ago. He must be of nobility because he was dressed well, and he gave me this as reward.” Yuta lowered his gaze, “the character says _‘joy’_ , and I wish for you to have it. I know I can’t be of much help to you, but I want you to know that I’m here to support you, even if I can’t always make you happy.”

The swordsmith’s resolve crumbled in that instant, tears spilling from his eyes in uncontrolled rivulets, his body shaking with the force of his sobs. Yuta panicked, unsure if he’d done something he shouldn’t have, and placed a tentative hand on the younger’s knees. When Jaehyun didn’t push him away, he gathered his lover into a tender embrace, allowing him to bury his tears into Yuta’s _jeogori_. When Jaehyun continued to cry quietly in Yuta’s arms long after the loud sobs had died down, the older wondered if Jaehyun had been bottling everything up all these time.

“I…” The young swordsmith let out a weary breath once he had calm down while Yuta wiped his tears with his sleeves, “I slept with the king…I didn’t want to, but—“ Jaehyun bit his lip hard enough that Yuta worried he would make himself bleed. Yuta felt cold settle in his stomach at the admission, letting silence take over as the truth hung in the air. Jaehyun didn’t want to, that meant…

“Did he…force you?” Jaehyun remained tightlipped but his hand reached up to clutch at Yuta’s clothes, his despair loud and clear. “Oh Jaehyun…I’m sorry.” Yuta knew he shouldn’t, that his own tears would only bring Jaehyun unnecessary guilt; it wasn’t his lover’s fault, they simply lived in a backward world where men with power carelessly walked over people like them.

Jaehyun’s eyes bugged at the sight of his tears, having never witnessed them before. Yuta had never wanted him to, determined to keep the image of a fiercely proud man if only to keep what remained of his dignity in front of the man he had come to love. But this wasn’t about him, and Yuta, always bubbling with emotions, would weep for his lover like he wept the first time he had been taken against his will.

The swordsmith recounted everything, from the moment the king first laid eyes on him to his last visit to the palace that would soon be his new residence. He refused to call it home. Jaehyun paused, many times, to keep his tears at bay, to swallow the shame that threatened to rip him from the seams. Yuta listened with his lips stretched tight and his eyes burning.

“It wasn’t your fault…it wasn’t.” Yuta repeated like mantra, holding Jaehyun closer if that was physically possible.

“I’m sorry…I couldn’t…I couldn’t face you. I was so ashamed.”

“You shouldn’t be…this, I should be sorry. If only I could be there to protect you.” Yuta moaned, agony washing over him. He had never before resented the shackles that bound him to this brothel as much as he did at the moment; he wanted nothing more than be there for Jaehyun and yet, even that he couldn’t do.

“You couldn’t have done anything.” Came Jaehyun’s subdued response, his pain and defeat loud behind the words. He wasn’t wrong

After they had both calmed down and Jaehyun had stopped beating himself over his own rape, Yuta begged Donghyuck on his knees to let him bring his lover back to his hut at the foot of the mountain. He knew his master would not have agreed. The boy looked unsure about his request, already knowing that both he and Yuta would be in trouble come morning but the desperation in Yuta’s voice and the tear tracks down the attendant’s face were enough indication that the Japanese man’s next words were not to be taken lightly,

_“If you will not allow me then I will run away, I swear to it, and you will never be able to find me.” Yuta meant every word._

_“Yuta…You know I, too, will be punished for this, right?”_

_“Please Donghyuck, your father will not flog you for allowing his whore out for a night, but I will never be able to live with myself if I am to leave Jaehyun like this.”_

Jaehyun had been in disbelief when Yuta had told him about it but quickly warmed up to the idea of coming home with Yuta, if only for a night. The Japanese man knew what it was like so he was distantly aware that Jaehyun craved a comforting presence to cope with the self-loathing. He knew his lover needed to forgive himself first, before he could come to accept that none of it had been his fault. Yuta for one, blamed himself endlessly for being weak until he couldn’t anymore.

The reminder that something as horrible as what he had gone through was done to the kind man who only ever wanted to live an honest life left Yuta dizzy with rage.

“I am glad that you’re here.” Jaehyun started, his first words after they’d left the brothel. From the distance, they could see the little hut by the stream and Yuta bravely reached out for his lover’s hand now that they were surrounded by trees, away from the spiteful eyes of the people who would never understand.

“I will always be here for you.”

That night, Jaehyun had begged Yuta to take him on the cold floor of the hut he would soon abandon. His big hands gripped the back of Yuta’s head as the older drove into his body with frenzy, his legs hooking around Yuta’s small waist, determined not to leave even an inch of space between their bodies. The older man’s languid pace left Jaehyun manic with desire, pulling his lover into a deep, impassioned kiss.

Jaehyun swallowed Yuta’s mewls of pleasure every time he clenched around him, and bore the onslaught of the slighter man’s ruthless passion. Every slap of flesh, every slide of skin, teeming with patience and affection as they reached the peak together.

When tears became mixed up with sweat and the evidence of their tryst, Yuta gently wiped them away with a softly spoken reminder that he was not alone anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love melodramatic Yuta, I just love portraying him as this person who feels too much and too intensely based on the member’s stories of him. It’s because of this that he tends to run into trouble a lot in my fics.
> 
> On a different note, can anyone guess who’s the lad Yuta helped at the market? and regarding the Bokjumeoni, the character was written in Chinese so Yuta could read it (=Japanese kanji >///<)
> 
> And Jaehyun, poor Jaehyun, I always put my favourite boys through the grinder for absolutely no reason (except for the plot), kill me.


	5. four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, chapter 5! I did say the next few chapters will come a bit slower but I hope the wait is worth it!
> 
> enjoy.

An entire moon cycle had passed since Jaehyun was forcibly moved into the palace at the behest of the king, his own private quarters located close to the king’s residence, by the majestic _Huwon_. While the view was incredible, especially covered in frost, the implications of his proximity to the most important man in the kingdom was a grim reminder of the purpose for which he had been uprooted from the life he worked hard to build.

After he had come clean to Yuta about the nature of his relationship with the king, his lover had stepped up to the role of his keeper, wiping away Jaehyun’s tears without questions, reassurances pouring from his lips every second he held the swordsmith. His visits to the brothel had become more frequent in the days that followed his move under the guise of sourcing for materials for the sword. The king bought his excuses, only caring that Jaehyun was back within the confining walls of the palace by nightfall. The promise of another day with Yuta was enough to dampen the compulsion to take a sword to the king’s heart and continue with the precarious deception.

He knew they couldn’t live this way, not for long. There were only so many lies he could feed the king before he became suspicious and only so much Jaehyun could take before he fell further into the abyss of self contempt. His morale grew thinner and thinner each time the king took from him and he was genuinely afraid there would be nothing left of him by the time he made it out of the king's clutches. 

Jaehyun had told Yuta about his plans; he would finish the sword and take the money he was promised and they would flee the city together. The Japanese man had no qualms about leaving everything behind, unapologetic with his desire to be with Jaehyun even at the expense of the freedom he longed for, proving once again that his love for Jaehyun went beyond his instinct for suvival. If they went ahead with this, they would always be on the run, always fearing for their lives — it would be nothing like how he imagined their lives would be once he had bought Yuta's freedom back, but they would be together, and Yuta had assured him that that was the only solace he needed. Jaehyun knew they couldn’t just run without a destination in mind, so he’d burned his days going through all the possible options before deciding on Gyeongsang. Jaehyun knew a few people there who could help them and Taeil would be able to cover their tracks until then.

Taeil had kept his words, working hard to look for a possible way out for Jaehyun without compromising his safety, even if that meant spying on his fellow officials and endangering his own life. When he had told him about his plans to flee, the older had committed to providing him with a horse to aid his journey, _“That’s the least I could do for you, Jaehyun.”_ he’d said sternly. Jaemin was right — Taeil had been careless when he led the king to Jaehyun but he did his best to make up for that.

Despicable as he was, the king was also a curious man, Jaehyun came to realise. The man appeared cold and detached to his subjects, to the point that he seemed almost eerily unreal but he lavished Jaehyun with gifts as if to make up for his transgressions. Silk _dopo_ and intricately patterned _gatsin_ piled up in the corner of Jaehyun's room, the collection only growing by the day. The fancy clothes were tailored to wrap around Jaehyun’s body in a perfect fit, the rich colours a physical reminder of the king's overt favouritism, earning Jaehyun the scorn of many members of the royal court. The king seemed very pleased when he donned the clothes, appeasing the part of him that claimed ownership over Jaehyun. So Jaehyun did just that, despite how much he hated the feel of the silk on his skin.

The royal concubines, all of which had been carefully selected from different parts of the kingdom, had gone neglected since Jaehyun’s arrival in the palace, never once gracing the king’s chambers again. Understandably, many officials were not pleased with the development, often voicing their concerns but to no avail. Jaehyun understood the implications, Taeil made sure to educate him every chance he got, _“The king is without an heir and unmarried. His obvious preference for the same gender is not helping ease the concerns of the officials.”_ the older once explained during one of their many secret meetings.

 _“His fascination with you…it almost borders on obsessive.”_ Taeil said his discomposure clear.

 _“I don’t understand. I’m just a lowly swordsmith, I never wanted any of these,”_ Jaehyun gestured to the grandiose around him, _“nor did I ever wish to catch the king’s eyes.”_

_“Whatever it is, it has to stop. More than the topic of the preservation of the royal lineage, there is also the matter of the dissatisfaction of many officials. They think having you beside the king undermines their authority, I’m afraid you will be in danger not only from the king if you stayed any longer.”_

Taeil turned out to be right, because it wasn’t too long after when he was called to face one of the more influential officials, a man in his later years, and one Taeil warned him against before. The man had taken him aside and had not hesitated in striking him if only to get back at the humiliation of being forced to bow in front of a commoner. It was a reminder, the man said, so that he didn’t forget where he really stood in the bigger picture, but Jaehyun didn’t need it. There was no need to be reminded when he took the brunt of the king’s unwanted attention on the daily. Still, he bore the force of the hit without flinching, his feet firmly rooted in place.

The official’s only mistake was to hit Jaehyun where it showed. Leaving an angry bruise across Jaehyun’s cheek had been a huge misstep, one that the swordsmith didn’t realise would cost the man his life. The very next day he was awoken by the petrified screams echoing across the courtyard, and when he ran out of his quarters cold dread gripped him, halting his steps just a few paces away from where a headless body laid sprawled across the dirt, thick blood pooling under it and staining the otherwise pristine _dallyeong_.

The official’s head had rolled close to where the palace women were huddled together in fear, leaving a trail of deep crimson and filling the air with the metallic scent. The realisation of the extent of the king’s madness was finally sinking in. The palace guards formed a circle around the delusional king still brandishing a guard’s sword with careless abandon while a group of officials looked on in disbelief and rage. Jaehyun saw Taeil at the very back, watching the scene unfold with practiced composure.

“Nobody touches him.” The king said through clenched teeth, fury still burning in his eyes. Jaehyun had never seen the king be anything other than an emotionless puppet with a careless appetite for male lovers and this mad man was nothing like the monarch he had come to know behind the doors of his quarters. Jaehyun thought he knew what real fear was until his eyes met the king’s over the crouched figures of the palace workers and he was easily reminded that he had barely even scratched the surface of this man’s darkness.

—

When he returned to his quarters that evening, Jaehyun’s entire person was drawn towards the sword he had worked so hard to perfect, the sword that had brought him to this hell and one he hoped would be his ticket out.

The hilt was made with high quality reinforced wood, with the guard and pommel dotted with small pieces of precious jewels and finished with a layer of gold. It was long, as the king had specifically demanded, yet light and sturdy. It was only missing a scabbard at this point but other than that it looked every bit like a sword fit for a king. It was Jaehyun's best work, one that he was sure he would never be able to best in the future.

Jaehyun traced the blade with his finger and wondered if it had been worth the grief and freedom.

—

Jaehyun ruefully surveyed the familiar walls of the guest quarters where he had met Yuta all those moon cycles ago. This would be the last night that they would spend together in here and while the occasion should be one worth celebrating, he knew that the uncertainties that awaited them outside the brothel walls were far more terrifying than the drunk patrons that could hardly carry themselves out of the establishment. Yuta was lying on his side, head pillowed on Jaehyun’s lap as the younger carded his fingers through the lose strands of ebony hair. Jaehyun could feel the steady rhythm of Yuta’s breathing against his thigh, a reminder of what he was fighting so hard to protect.

“Tomorrow I receive my pay, and we will leave this place together.” Jaehyun said softly, still running a careful hand through Yuta’s long hair.

“We will, you and I.” Yuta’s response helped cement the younger’s resolve. Whatever doubts he may have had vanished in the wake of Yuta’s steadfast faith. Jaehyun was guilty of doubting his lover many times, guilty of succumbing to the fear that he would change his mind and Jaehyun would be left alone again, accompanied only by despair and the always lingering possibility of being caught by the palace guards.

“You will gain your freedom, but it won’t be the kind you imagine.” He reminded, in case Yuta forgot. He wanted the older man to fully understand what fate awaited him should he stay with Jaehyun.

“I am aware.”

“We might have to take false identities…you might not be able to return to Japan for a long time.”

Yuta’s hand tightened around his before he breathed out, “And I am ready for that too. I will face all of that if you’re with me.” Jaehyun turned away from the beautiful man cradled in lap, jaws tensing in an effort to hold back the emotions spilling through his mask. He couldn’t stand looking at the sincerity in Yuta’s eyes without the triggering the guilt. Yuta didn’t deserve to be subjected to a life like this. Jaehyun had promised him the world and instead he had betrayed him to a worse fate by unknowingly falling prey to the king’s trap.

“Together.” Jaehyun whispered anyway, bending over to press a firm kiss on the little mole under Yuta’s eye, and then another one to his chin as Yuta settled on his back. The smaller man tilted his head back to allow Jaehyun better access, engaging his lover in a drawn out kiss, lips moving atop each other slowly, eagerly.

Jaehyun’s hand disappeared into Yuta’s clothes, tenderly tracing circles onto the bare skin of his stomach. The smaller man moaned onto his lips, his smaller hand wrapping around Jaehyun’s wrist to guide the trajectory of his touch. Gently, he led the hand lower and lower until it reached the waistband of Yuta’s _baji_ , which the latter eagerly loosened in response. Jaehyun’s hand continued its descent unapologetically, teasing his lover’s filling erection with feathery light touches, and trailing it under his sac to drag his nails between his cheeks, as if asking for entry. Breathless, Yuta broke away from the kiss to procure a vial of oil, thrusting it to Jaehyun greedily, spreading his legs and folding them with purpose. It was all the permission Jaehyun needed.

“Stay a little longer,” Yuta panted against Jaehyun’s mouth with every pump of the younger’s fingers, his tongue tracing a path to the corner of Jaehyun’s lips, “stay with me.” Jaehyun nuzzled Yuta’s neck in response taking in the heady scent that was uniquely Yuta. He pulled away for a moment so he had a clear view of his lover, wanting nothing but to burn the image of sweat-slicked skin, parted lips and flushed cheeks to memory, drawing strength from the gleam of affection in those round, unwavering eyes.

—

Fulfilling Yuta’s request before they bid their goodbyes to Hanyang, Jaehyun stayed beside him until he couldn’t anymore. He returned to the palace before midnight, hoping that his absence would go unnoticed. Only one more night before he would be out of this place.

He was taken aback however when he arrived at his quarters to find two royal guards waiting for his return, their faces were a mask of stern indifference, “His majesty has summoned you to his chambers.” they informed him almost clinically, and were quick to escort him to the king without giving him the chance to change into the king’s preferred silk clothes.

“Jaehyun.” The man greeted airily, already in his undergarments. The guards closed the doors behind them and Jaehyun felt sick to his stomach, already knowing what this meant, “you were gone for a fairly long time.” the king continued. He was more daring this time, taking big strides to where Jaehyun was kneeled so he could pull him towards the massive bed by his arm.

Every cell in Jaehyun’s body balked in revulsion and he couldn’t help the way he steeled his body against the touches. The king seemed to notice his sudden stubborn streak because he jerked him with more force this time, almost making him stumble. Jaehyun was young and strong and fully capable of fighting back but he also knew that he wouldn’t stand a chance against the king’s guards should it come down to it. He promised Yuta he would be back for him in the morning, so he would stay alive, if only for one more night.

The king appraised him with narrowed eyes, dropping his hold on Jaehyun’s arm in favour of gripping his face in an unforgiving hold, “Tell me, Jaehyun, what is it that you want?” the man breathed into his face and the swordsmith fought the urge to gag.

“I don’t understand, your majesty.” He responded, voice slightly muffled by the fingers digging into his cheeks. He had long since been given the permission to speak, the king finding no excitement with a man without a voice.

“What is it that you desire?” The king rephrased but it only brought Jaehyun further confusion, “big, round eyes? A straight nose? Or is it the luscious locks?” The swordsmith’s breath stuttered at the words and he couldn’t help the coil of horror from unfurling in his chest. It couldn’t be. He made sure not to leave a trace, going as far as visiting several different establishments each time he went out so Yuta couldn’t be traced down.

“Don’t look like that,” the king released him, using the same hand to pat him on the same cheek the deceased official struck, “I simply wish to know what it is you find appealing. After all, you always look miserable.” Jaehyun clenched his teeth at the apathetic way the king referred to the liaisons he forced on Jaehyun. Just one more night, he repeated in his head like mantra, one more and he would never have to see this man’s face again.

“I have no particular preference, your majesty.” He said instead, continuing the act if only so he could make it out of the king’s chamber in one piece.

“I see.” The response came after a few quiet seconds where the king continued to run his gaze down Jaehyun’s person, unashamed, pausing at his lips with a weighty stare. Suddenly conscious of the way his lips were still swollen from kissing Yuta without abandon for hours, Jaehyun ducked his head. He heard a lengthy sigh before the monarch continued,

“Go back to your quarters, you will have a long day tomorrow.”

The sudden dismissal left Jaehyun reeling with confusion and a sense of unease. A quick glance towards the king confirmed his suspicions. The man had a small, barely noticeable smirk behind his beard. That wasn’t the look of a man who was displeased, but one who was sure of his victory.

Fear gripped Jaehyun as he was escorted back to his quarters, the image of the king's smug countenance occupying his thoughts throughout the night.

—

The next day found Jaehyun standing in front of the king’s residence where he was to face the despicable man for the last time. This time the king was in his usual garbs, there were no lewd touches nor loaded stares, instead he looked at Jaehyun as if he was nothing more than another servant. The sudden change in his demeanour brought Jaehyun both relief and unease.

The sword was carefully placed in front of Jaehyun’s kneeled figure and he touched his forehead to the floor as he announced the completion of it. The king rose from his perch so he could inspect the blade, humming in callous approval.

“Raise your head swordsmith.” This was the first time the king had addressed him as such. Jaehyun lifted his gaze to find the king's hardened eyes train on him, a devious smile on his face. Goosebumps peppered his skin under layers of expensive clothing and Jaehyun swallowed the lump in his throat.

“You will be rewarded for your excellent work. Then you are free to leave the palace.” Jaehyun’s fingers curled into fists, feeling his nails bite into skin. Had it been this simple all along? Had the king been planning on letting him go as soon as the sword was finished? Somehow it didn’t add up and Jaehyun was left with a nagging disquiet. Something was not right.

“Thank you, your majesty.”

—

Jaehyun collected his money in haste, running to his quarters to grab his bag where he packed all of his possessions and none of the gifts the king had showered him with. He found Taeil and Jaemin waiting for him outside his quarters to bid their farewells.

“I suppose there will be no need for you to leave Hanyang anymore.” The older man greeted with a genuine smile.

“No, but there are also too many unpleasant memories linked to this place.”

“If that’s what you wish, Jaehyun. The horse is ready at your old shack.” Jaehyun took a deep breath, and lowered his head in a bow. From his periphery vision he could make out Jaemin’s wide smile and his quiet, "Be safe on your journey, sir."

“You have my gratitude. Goodbye Taeil, goodbye Jaemin.”

Jaehyun wasted no time running out of the palace with something akin to exhilaration; all those nights spent covered in cold sweat, flat on his back in the king’s chambers were long over. He was finally free and ready to have Yuta without fear, without second thoughts.

It felt like a lifetime, crossing the distance between the palace and the town centre. He couldn’t wait to hold Yuta, who from today, would be a free man. When the brothel was finally in sight, his chest constricted at the pressure of his longing and the promise of a new beginning with the man he undoubtedly loved. He felt for the bag of coins in his pocket and sprinted the entire way to the establishment.

His stomach sank however when he found Donghyuck pacing in front of the entrance, his anxiety palpable. The foreboding feeling was further thickened by the few other attendants lingering outside. Judging by their expressions, something had happened just before Jaehyun got there.

“Donghyuck…what’s wrong? Where is Yuta?” He sincerely hoped it would be just another incident like the last time. A wayward patron that went too far, anything but what his gut instincts were screaming at him.

Donghyuck turned towards him, his lips quivering in distress, “Jaehyun, I did my best, I really did, but they wouldn’t have it. I offered the other girls and—“

“Calm down, I don’t understand Donghyuck, what are you talking about?” Jaehyun’s breath was coming in short gasps, unable to keep the panic from spilling over. When Donghyuck pursed his lips and bowed his head in apology, Jaehyun lost all semblance of control,

“Answer me! Where is he!?”

“He’s gone! They took him away! I couldn’t do anything, father couldn’t do anything!”

“Who did it? Who took him?!” Jaehyun’s nostrils flared, his gut twisting with wild anxiety. It couldn’t be, Yuta couldn’t be—

“The royal guards. They came here demanding to buy Yuta. My father tried to negotiate but they wouldn’t have it, they wanted him specifically.”

Jaehyun’s knees buckled and Donghyuck ran to his side, holding onto his friend if only to keep him from toppling to the ground. The smaller man lowered him to a crouching position where Jaehyun let his imagination run free. Yuta was in the palace, in the king’s possession.

“They took him…” he mumbled to nothing, legs weak with realisation. All of it made sense now, the king’s words the night before, him letting Jaehyun go free. He had known all along. Jaehyun’s greatest fear had come true.

“Jaehyun I don’t understand…what do the palace guards want with Yuta? What kind of trouble is he in?”

“I don’t have time to explain. I need to go to him.” Detangling himself from Donghyuck, Jaehyun picked himself up, gathering what remained of his resolve with all the strength he could muster.

“Be careful.” His younger friend called out softly after him. He heard frenzied footsteps before a hand shot out to grasp at Jaehyun’s wrist, halting his departure. The swordsmith turned to find a familiar boyish face streaked with tears,

“Jungwoo…” Donghyuck mumbled in surprise.

“Please, please go to him…” The young man clung onto Jaehyun, his desperation bleeding into his voice, “save Yuta, please. He had done nothing wrong and those men…they don’t mean well...and Yuta...he looked scared.” The image threw Jaehyun into anguish. They were caught off-guard and Yuta must’ve been so confused and afraid when instead of Jaehyun, armed men came for him.

“I will find him, it’s not too late.” His words were sharp, hopeful. Jaehyun knew he wouldn’t stop until Yuta was back in his arms, even if he had to go against the most powerful man in the kingdom. Gently, he pried Jungwoo off him, bidding Donghyuck goodbye. He didn’t know if he would ever see them again after this.

—

When he left the palace that morning, it never crossed his mind that he would be back so soon, set on getting as far away as possible from the mad king. Yet, here he was, trudging back to his personal hell, and this time, it was not only his life in danger. His heartbeat picked up with every step he took, eyes scanning the faces he passed in case Yuta happened to be one of them. Palace women watched him in confusion, convinced that he was gone for good that morning.

He found Taeil outside the _Injeongjeon_ hall, his face a mask of bewilderment, “Jaehyun, what are you doing back here? What happened?” he grabbed at the older man’s garbs, startling him enough that Taeil put a hand on Jaehyun’s arm out of instinct.

“I can’t leave. I can’t leave Taeil, I am really trapped this time.” he spat, bitter furious. The swordsmith watched the official’s expression morph to that of surprise and then confusion before he asked in a low voice.

“What do you mean? The king let you go free, in fact I think I know why. I heard he purchased a foreign slave from a brothel in town, you don’t have to worry anym—“

“No!” Jaehyun cried a little too loudly it seemed, because Taeil made a point to survey their surroundings to make sure there was no one within immediate ear shot. “The _slave_ you talk about, he is my lover.” Taeil froze at the revelation and let out lengthy exhale after detangling himself from Jaehyun.

“The man…round eyes, a mole under one of them?"

“Yes. That's him” Jaehyun replied, now somber, all the fight in his body draining at the resignation on Taeil’s face.

“We are in real trouble this time, Jaehyun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i would like to apologise for the false sense of hope at the beginning of this update.
> 
> on the other hand, three chapters left! i really need to finish this before i get distracted again.


	6. three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait! i was a little unmotivated with this work because of that july, post-thekking yuta incident so i refused to write this until i felt more comfortable with it again. i was super close to changing the direction of the story over it but [harajukucrepes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/harajukucrepes/pseuds/harajukucrepes) convinced me to stick to the original story. special thanks to her for helping me read through the last three chapters ;u;
> 
> please heed the warnings, there's a lot of violence in this chapter!

Jaehyun had never before felt more breathless as he did at the moment, running from building to building, his muscles burning from the strain. He still had no clue where Yuta had been taken, with Taeil having seen him only as they escorted him into the palace. Dread creeped on him at the thought that he might be in the king’s chambers at this very moment, facing the mad king’s twisted desires and delusions in Jaehyun’s place.

He was just about to round the corner to his old quarters when a familiar voice called out to him, “Sir! I’ve found him!” The swordsmith turned to face young Jaemin who looked just as breathless. He hadn’t realised that the boy had been searching as well, everything had been a blur after he’d ran out on Taeil in a frenzy. He supposed Taeil must’ve sent him to help or he could’ve done that on his own, as the younger liked to remind him, he was free to do as he wanted despite being Taeil’s slave.

“Jaemin? Where is he?!”

“I heard the palace women talking, they brought him to the slave quarters, together with all the other male slaves.” The news brought Jaehyun a sliver of relief. Anywhere was better than the king’s residence, especially since he couldn’t just barge in there like a deranged man unless he wanted his head off his shoulders as well. That also meant that the king’s intentions weren’t as straightforward as Jaehyun had first thought and it was with terrifying realisation that Jaehyun began to acknowledge what Yuta’s purpose in the palace was for.

“Thank you, Jaemin.” The boy nodded as Jaehyun left him to turn towards the opposite direction. The closer he got to the slave quarters, the harder his heart hammered against his chest. He found it odd that none of the guards stationed at the building stopped him from approaching. It was as if the king had anticipated this exact outcome, dangling what he wanted the most in front of his face with the knowledge that Jaehyun had no way of snatching it from his clutches. 

Then he saw him, Yuta stood out with his long hair in a braid down his shoulders and his visually unblemished skin, even amongst a mob of male slaves who were unable to keep the curiosity from their gaze at the sight of a frazzled Jaehyun shooting through the door. Yuta looked so small huddled in a corner, clutching a bag with everything he owned inside. A sharp ache pierced through Jaehyun; he brought this upon them, he’d unintentionally lured Yuta into danger and now he didn’t know if there was any way they could both get out of this alive.

“Yuta!” Jaehyun all but ran to his lover, ignoring the pointed stares and sneers from the other slaves. They might already have a clue as to what Yuta was to the king’s favourite bedmate, it was not hard to draw such conclusions with the near desperate tone of his voice and the subsequent relief that painted his face at the sight of Yuta well and alive. The older man’s eyes lit up in recognition, his lips already stretching into a smile. It was so in character of Yuta to still be able to manage a smile even at such a trying time.

“Jaehyun!” The swordsmith heard ease creep into his voice as he moved to stand. It took all of Jaehyun’s strength not to scoop up the smaller man into an embrace. It wouldn’t be a good idea right now, not with the watchful eyes that followed them. If Yuta was going to be housed among these people, Jaehyun would at least make sure he would be safe, even from them.

“I don’t know what happened, they just came for me and took me away…I don’t understand.” Yuta rambled, heedless of the ears listening in. Jaehyun gently shushed him and Yuta seemed to get the message at once because he reeled himself back in realisation, pursing his lips in hesitation. Quietly, Jaehyun led him outside, behind the building, and away from the prying eyes of the royal court. The guards said nothing as he passed them and it only served to solidify the weight in Jaehyun’s chest. He was now sure this had been the king’s plan all along. How long had they been tailing him? Likely longer than he initially thought, if they managed to bypass his supposedly fool-proof attempts for diversion. Perhaps they’d been following him long before he moved into the palace.

“It’s all my fault.” Jaehyun admitted at the look of confusion on Yuta’s face, his own frown deepening, “the king must have had me followed at one point. I led them right to you. I’m so sorry.” Jaehyun laced their fingers together, bringing their hands up to press light kisses onto Yuta’s knuckles, “I’m sorry…” he repeated, eyes burning with shame and remorse. Once again, he’d done the complete opposite of what he’d intended, roping Yuta into something much too big for the likes of them. 

“It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known.” the Japanese man said softly, head bowed. It was obvious that the reality of the situation was only now sinking in, the veil that had muffled the danger was only starting to lift. If this was hard on Jaehyun, he could only imagine what it was like for Yuta. He had been there once before, unknowingly plucked from a bloodbath and forced into prostitution. Yuta’s entire life in Hanyang had been built around the horrors of the unexpected and the cruelties of twisted men. This time however, one wrong move could cost them their lives, and knowing Yuta, he would worry more for Jaehyun than for his own safety.

“He plans to use you against me.” Jaehyun finally admitted.

“No.” The older countered firmly, “No he will not. You will not let him.”

“Yuta…”

“No. I’m fully capable of protecting myself, Jaehyun. I don’t need you to make sacrifices for me. Promise me that please.”

“Yuta-”

“Promise me,  _ please _ .”

Jaehyun’s breath was caught in his throat at the unyielding conviction in those eyes and the strength of Yuta’s resolve. He was so full of strength that Jaehyun silently wondered where he was drawing them from, “I promise.”

“I will hold you to that.” Yuta nodded, his voice mellowing at the end. 

“We’ll still go with the plan.” Jaehyun murmured against Yuta’s hand, purposely lowering his voice so that even Yuta had to strain his ears to hear, “We will still leave this place, the first chance we get.”

“But how? I’m now a property of the king, we would be killed before we’re able to step foot outside the city.” Jaehyun knew that, he knew that unlike him, Yuta couldn’t just freely walk away any time he wanted. This wasn’t the same thing as when Jaehyun lived in the palace as the king’s fleeting fancy and had unlimited access to the world outside the looming walls. This time he would be running off with the king’s property, and like thieves who dared take from the king, they would be hunted for as long as they lived.

“I’ll figure it out. Trust me, I will get us out of here.” 

The slighter man nodded meekly and Jaehyun had a feeling that the gesture was more to appease him than anything. Meeting Yuta’s gaze of uncertainty with his own contrite one, Jaehyun pulled the other against his body after making sure nobody was privy to their moment. He let Yuta sink into the warmth of his embrace with the hopes that it would be enough to calm some of the older man’s worries. It was the least comfort Jaehyun could offer and it was a long, long moment before they parted.

—

After making sure that Yuta was safe and not in immediate danger of being summoned by the king, Jaehyun met Taeil outside his old quarters — old because Jaehyun had no plans of falling victim to the king’s machinations and he was not taking another step into that place filled only with unwanted memories — with Jaemin in tow, appearing as distressed as the two adults on each of his sides.

“Taeil, listen to me, I would take everything the king would throw at me, but I would not be able to handle it if something were to happen to him.” The official looked taken aback at the tone he adopted and Jaehyun couldn’t blame him, he was justifiably seething and his voice likely echoed his anger. Before this, he couldn’t imagine ever raising his voice at the older man.

“I don’t know what to say, the king purchased him from his previous owner. To try and take him away will be to steal from his majesty.”

“I would steal from deities if that meant Yuta would be back safely in my arms.” The official looked at him with something that bordered on awe and disbelief. 

“I have never met a man so impassioned before.” Taeil said softly before he continued in a more serious tone, “There has been plans of an uprising against the king for a long time now. The deceased official had been the one leading the movement but his untimely demise at the hands of the king discouraged many.” Taeil cradled his head in his palms as he moved to sit on the wooden veranda, “Someone has to take his place. The ensuing chaos would be astronomical and the entire city will go up in flames, but we can make use of the distraction for the both of you to escape.”

Jaehyun took a long look at the older man and recognised the conflict in his eyes. Realisation dawned upon him at Jaemin’s worried gaze and his quiet pleading, “Master, you can’t...”

“Hush Jaemin, let us talk.” Taeil simply waved the boy off, to Jaemin’s grief. Judging from the younger’s reaction, this could be potentially fatal for Taeil as it was for both Jaehyun and Yuta. If the plan was discovered prematurely, the traitors would be rounded up, tortured and killed to set an example. Jaehyun had heard it happen before and the thought that Taeil was standing up with them until the very end felt like a beacon in the unending shroud of oppression. Yuta would be eternally grateful to him, if they ever had the chance to properly meet.

“Taeil, you would lead a coup for us mere nobodies?”

“I’m ready to do everything to get both of you out of here, Jaehyun. Bringing you into the palace is my single, gravest mistake and if I can’t undo what’s been done, I will do my best to make things right, at whatever cost.” Jaemin’s face contorted at the words, surely aware of the lengths his master would go for a promise.

Jaehyun gave him a curt nod and put his heart and hopes on the line. If this was going to fail, everything was going down with it but if it worked, the illusion of a reality where he could hold Yuta’s hand without fear would no longer feel as distant as the stars in the skies.

— 

Predictably, hovering outside the slave quarters was bound to attract the kind of attention Jaehyun desperately didn’t need, especially if he refused to leave despite the cold and even against the order of the palace guards. Jaehyun kept his head straight and tried his best to calm his wildly beating heart as he was escorted to the king’s residence by the same guards that used to deliver him to the king like a carefully prepared meal for the monarch’s enjoyment. Unlike before, they had hands around both of his arms like he was a criminal about to answer for his crimes, the irony left a bitter taste on his tongue.

The king stood tall and menacing at the veranda, looking over Jaehyun’s shivering figure with cruel, calculating eyes as he was pushed to kneel on the dirt. 

“You’ve returned, swordsmith, and for what reason?”

Looking directly at the king without stalling, Jaehyun’s fists clenched against his thigh, “I’ve returned to take back something very important, your majesty.”

A chuckle burst forth from the king’s chest, loud and grating. It soon turned into full blown laughter, a mockery of Jaehyun’s pain, a blatant disregard for the lives he toyed with for his own pleasure. Jaehyun forcibly set aside his rage, knowing what was at stake.

“I assume you are talking about the whore. What do you have to offer? I am not letting my newest acquisition go at your words.” the king said as his laughter died on his lips.

“What is it that you wish to achieve by keeping him? You can get anyone else you want. You have shown your power and what you’re capable of, surely, you do not have a need for a foreign slave who barely speaks our language.” Jaehyun countered, his lies spilling unchecked as he grew more desperate by the second. The king’s eyes turned grim in an instant.

“Because I need him. If he’s here, then you would never leave, if I have him by the throat, then I know you would never betray me.” 

Jaehyun had never felt so anguished to be right. He’d known from the beginning, from the moment he saw Yuta virtually untouched, that this was the king’s goal all along. To trap them, to hold Yuta captive to keep Jaehyun in check, his lover’s life for Jaehyun’s absolute obedience. His stomach knotted in horror and the all consuming wrath that took all of his strength to reign in. This man was the evil Jaehyun didn’t think he would ever have the misfortune of coming face to face with in this lifetime and in a cruel twist of fate, he’d managed to bring Yuta right at the mercy of it.

He did his best to hold the king’s gaze without letting his lewd, deceitful eyes get under his skin as his mind raced. Yuta’s words rang in his ears, his pleas for Jaehyun to not fall into the obvious trap and the desperation that laced his voice as Jaehyun was forced to make the promise.

For a brief moment he wondered if Yuta would hate him for not honouring his words, but then remembered that Yuta could never hate him. He was too kind, too compassionate, too much of everything Jaehyun desired and he was in every version of the future Jaehyun dreamed of, except this was not one of them. He would never hope to find Yuta in the same hell, not even if it meant never being able to touch him, to feel his breath on his face and hear the rumble of his laughter, ever again. 

His mouth tightened into a thin line, his pulse quickening as Jaehyun finally came to a decision. He trusted Taeil’s plan and trusted that he would ensure Yuta’s safety regardless of the fate that awaited Jaehyun behind the doors to the king’s residence. For now, he would do everything it took to keep Yuta away from harm. 

“Then you will have me. You will have all of me, but only in exchange for Yuta's freedom. He will not remain in the palace, not as a whore nor a slave.” Jaehyun couldn’t even hear his own voice over the sound of his blood rushing in his ears, and the wild thumping of his heart against his ribs. He may be kneeling in dirt but he felt a rush of power in that moment as he squared his shoulders and met the king’s eyes with his own steely ones.

“You dare bargain with me? There is no guarantee that you will not run away should he leave this place. Did you think I would fall for your schemes?”

“You have my word. I promise I will stay as long as he’s safe and far from here.” Jaehyun gritted firmly, his anger withering, replaced by fear and cold panic.

“No, he leaves the palace, he dies.” 

His breath hitched at the mention of death, and in a desperate last resort, Jaehyun reached into his pocket, and slowly, as to not spur the guards standing on either side of him, and dropped the hefty bag of coins in front of him.

“Here, have all of these back! Please, allow me to buy my lover’s freedom, this is more than the amount you have paid for him and this is all that I have. I will not attempt to flee, I will be yours for as long as you want!” 

The king’s expression turned sour at once and Jaehyun saw the moment his eyes darkened in anger, “You insolent fool.” The king spat, seething. The man took large strides to stand in front of Jaehyun’s kneeling figure to grab a fistful of his hair, pulling his head back to bare his neck in a show of dominance, heedless of Jaehyun’s pained gasp, “Do you honestly believe that he will not come running back here for you? You would exchange your life for a foreign man’s freedom when nothing awaits him outside these walls but despair and sure death?” 

Jaehyun’s gut twisted with wild anxiety and he hoped his trembling hand went without notice as he tried to quell the wave of nausea that overcame him at the king’s words. No, Yuta’s will to live was stronger than that, he would not fall into the clutches of sorrow, he reminded himself as the king’s fingers tightened in his hair. He was then shoved to the ground, tiny pebbles digging into his palms. Breathless and with his blood frozen in his veins, he looked up to face the mad king in time to hear his eerily calm voice as he commanded,

“Teach him a lesson, make sure he knows why he should never bare his fangs at his master.” 

Before Jaehyun could even make sense of what was happening, he was kicked on his side, the solid end of a boot digging into his ribs painfully, throwing him on his back against the dirt with a sharp cry. He scrambled away as his self-preservation instincts kicked in, but he didn’t have time to get on his feet before another kick connected directly to his gut, knocking his breath out of him, a sharp, crippling pain pulsating through every fibre of his being.

Jaehyun rolled onto his stomach in an effort to protect himself from the blows that came from different directions. At some point he’d managed to swing an arm out, catching one of the guards on his jaw and landing a few hits as he struggled to his feet once more. If he could shake them off, he would make a run for the slave quarters, snatch Yuta away from this madness and take him as far as his wobbly feet can manage. He recognised it was the lack of air in his lungs and the blood spilling from his lips that was making his head spin with delusions. Who was he kidding? Even if he did manage to get to Yuta, they would not make it out of here alive. 

Still, Jaehyun endured the hits and smothered the sting of his cuts and bruised flesh as he fought for his life and Yuta’s. His battle came to an abrupt end as the hilt of the sword struck him on the back of his head, sending him to the ground in a trembling heap of tears and blood.

What did they do to deserve this? Was loving another man really so wrong that they should be punished this way?

Jaehyun sobbed with dirt in his mouth, choked with pain and anger at the sadistic world that brutalised them. The pain from every muscle of his body had become so unbearable that he almost longed for the cold grips of unconsciousness, except he could not bear the thought of leaving Yuta to face the wrath of the evil king. So he tried his best to hold onto the fragile threads of consciousness if only for a second more, but even his tenacity was not enough to hold back the shadows that began to cloud his senses.

Another well-aimed punch to his face sealed their fates, throwing Jaehyun into numbing darkness. As the colours faded into nothing, Yuta’s face flashed before his eyes one last time, resigned and oddly, at peace.

—

It would feel like an eternity had passed the next time Jaehyun would come to, his entire body throbbing in a cacophony of pain in varying degrees. His knees hurt like he’d skinned them over a hundred times, his knuckles were bloodied and bruised and it seemed he had dislocated two of his fingers because they were swollen to the point where they were hard to look at. Jaehyun’s stomach churned as he became immediately aware of the taste of blood and the sting of the multiple cuts on his lips. He was in his old quarters, haphazardly deposited on the cold wooden floor like his tormentors had been in a rush to leave.

Gradually, the memories came flowing back in small trickles. The king’s words and his promise of suffering, the feebleness he felt as he was reminded of what it was like to fear for his life with every excruciating hit he took, and finally, the thought of Yuta waiting for his return, tucked away among other slaves without a single clue of what awaited him. His throat constricted and he let out a strangled cry, hands shooting out to grab at anything within reach, a  _ jipsin _ , a cup, a jewellery box, throwing them across the room, against the wall. The banging and the chaos did little to alleviate the heaviness in his chest and the feeling of loss. Even hope seemed unattainable right now as he crawled to the door with the little strength he could muster. 

He wanted to see Yuta, wanted to hold him and bury his face in the column of his neck and feel his presence envelop him in warmth. The memory of Yuta’s touch felt too far away as tears finally spilled down his cheeks and it stung from the scrapes and cuts but it didn’t sting any worse than the thought of never being able to hold his lover again.

The blood on his clothes had long since dried and it didn’t take an educated man to guess that he’d been out cold for a good while. He played all the possible scenarios in his head and it only broke him further at the realisation that he couldn’t picture a single one where Yuta remained unscathed. What could’ve transpired in those long moments he was lying there helpless filled him with dread. He took a steadying breath, and his tears flowed harder because even that hurt. Still, Jaehyun forced himself to stand, seeking support from the pillars until he had gotten the hang of muffling the pain with his willpower and the biting chill in the air.

The slave quarters were not far from where he was, and despite the limp in his strides and his hazy vision, he was able to make it. Every step sent jolts of pain down his spine and he’d silently hoped he would run into Jaemin or Taeil along the way, if only so they could dispel his worst fears and to reassure him that they would be fine, that Yuta was safe behind those doors. But things never went the way he hoped them to. If it did, they wouldn’t be here; Yuta wouldn’t be a prostitute in a brothel in Hanyang and Jaehyun would still have his parents, never to be subjected to the horrors of slavery.

There were no more guards standing outside the quarters and it only further deepened the stern lines on his face and turned his stomach into lead.  _ No, please no _ , he nearly succumbed to the panic rising up his throat as he shoved the doors open and barreled in without care, he ignored the angry shouts and the confused looks as he kneeled at the empty spot where he’d left Yuta. His whole body trembled with exhaustion and the unwanted resignation that had started to creep on him.

The world around him grew dark and cold and Jaehyun could feel himself blanch, as if he hadn’t lost enough blood, as one slave approached in short strides, the words leaving the man’s mouth before Jaehyun could gather his wits, “The guards took ‘im to the king.”

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter will come tomorrow, so you won't be left hanging for a long time! hope you liked this instalment as much as i enjoyed writing it ;)


	7. two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> second to the last chapter. there's more graphic violence in this part, and non explicit rape. Please proceed with caution!

It was a miracle that Jaehyun had not collapsed yet from the pain as it continued to burn and sear at his senses. He forced his body to move past its physical limits, trembling from exertion and the extent of his injuries, but with no intention to stop. He suspected he’d broken a rib but there was no time to assess himself when he was racing against it. Every second wasted is another second of Yuta in agony and far out of his reach.

The throne hall was a place Jaehyun was familiar with, for all the wrong reasons. Even before he came to personally experience it, there were always rumours that the king brought the pleasure slaves he had amassed throughout the kingdom in that very room, tainted its grandiose with his unbridled lust and his infinite greed for power. Jaehyun had, too, become a victim of his insatiable desires in that very room. He would never forget, nor would he wish it upon someone else, definitely not on the man he loved more than life. Just like at the slave quarters, there were no guards at the doors, not a single shadow of a person within the vicinity of the typically well guarded building that stood majestically at the entrance of the palace.

Then he heard it, the screams of agony filtering through the doors.Tears were already flowing freely down Jaehyun’s cheeks before he could climb up the steps and slide the doors open, the laboured breathing and taunting laughter were all that he needed to hear to confirm his worst nightmare. In the middle of the hall stood Yuta, his face pained and his clothes barely hanging onto his body, one trembling hand firmly gripping a sword while the other was clutching a wound on his side. Blood oozed between Yuta’s fingers, pooling by his feet and sinking into the gaps between the wooden floor, sure to leave permanent stains. There were at least six guards surrounding him, all armed except one who was curled up into a foetal position, clutching a bleeding hand that was missing at least three fingers, and another lying unconscious on the floor with a bloodied forehead.

The king sat at his throne, head propped on one hand as he languidly watched the bloodbath in front of him like it was nothing more than a minstrel show, a spectacle for a king’s entertainment.

“Yuta!” Jaehyun screamed over the jeers that echoed in the massive hall, his heart in his throat as he ran into the centre of the horrific scene, throwing his body over Yuta’s with a ragged sob. The smaller man flinched under his touch, still reeling from adrenaline and the shock of what they’d done to him. He had a crazed look in his eyes, like an injured animal ready to attack at the first sign of danger. “I’m here now...it’s alright, it’s going to be alright.” Jaehyun repeated with a scratchy voice, his words breaking between hiccups. He reached around Yuta to wrap what remained of his tattered clothes around his bare skin and for every bruise his eyes swept over, Jaehyun shed a tear. He rocked their bodies, refusing to let go even as the foul men closed in around them.

“The Japanese whore sure can fight. He would’ve saved himself the pain if he’d just let himself be held down.” One of them clicked their tongue, as if they hadn’t just done something unforgivable. Up close, he could see the bite marks and scratches on their skin better. Yuta had really put up a fight and it only broke him more to imagine that he may have been waiting for Jaehyun to break through those doors to spirit him to safety. Jaehyun had been too late.

The swordsmith couldn’t help but tense at the guard’s words, his body hurting everywhere from even the most miniscule movements and yet nothing stung worse than hearing about how his lover was brutally violated. He held onto Yuta tighter when he felt the other shiver in his embrace before the older man lifted his face out of Jaehyun’s chest. Through bleary eyes he saw Yuta peer at the men with a dangerously murderous glint in his eyes, it was a sight Jaehyun had never seen before and one he wished to never witness again. The smaller man pushed Jaehyun out of the way so he could point the sword he was still clutching towards his attackers, spitting fiery words through chattering teeth,  _ “I’m going to kill all of you.” _

The words were spoken in Yuta’s native tongue and yet, Jaehyung didn’t need to understand them to know the rage it belied and the underlying sorrow as he felt Yuta gradually sag against him. The blood loss that Jaehyun was only now recognising to be worse than what he’d initially thought was likely making dizzy. 

“That’s enough.” The voice of authority was unmistakable as it echoed in the hall along with the clik claking of his  _ jeokseok _ against the floor. The tyrant king stepped down from his throne with foreboding ease, a cloud of doom following his descent. Jaehyun’s arms tightened around Yuta as he pulled his lover closer, manoeuvring them so the smaller man was shielded from view as his head began to lol to the side. A sob was caught in Jaehyun’s throat at what it meant. They needed a doctor but it was unlikely that the king would bother to let Yuta live now that he had Jaehyun where he wanted him.

“What is it that keeps you attached to this man? There are far more beautiful men in the kingdom, I would gather all of them for your picking so you need not shed tears for a mere prostitute. I’ll give you everything you need.” 

“I don’t need anyone else, not another man, not you. You can take me by force but you will never, ever have my heart.” Jaehyun spat in unadulterated rage, his tears drying on his cheeks as he fought a losing battle against the exhaustion weighting his body down.

The king looked taken aback by the insolence. He looked ready to pull out a sword and end things then and there by the way his body shook in anger. Still, the monarch managed to straighten his posture, taking a steadying breath, “If this is truly how you wish your lives to end, then so be it.” The king motioned towards the guards with a brief nod.

Without warning, they went for Jaehyun, pulling him away from the vulnerable weight in his arms, but not without a fight. Jaehyun thrashed and swung his fists, unheeding of the pain that shot up from every inch of his body. Yuta looked far from responsive as they hauled him to his feet, his torn clothes falling away from his bruised frame as they dragged him out of the throne hall, trailing blood on the floor. Jaehyun felt sick to his stomach, yearning to be close to the smaller man, to touch and comfort, even as he too was manhandled out of the hall. The king looked on without a hint of remorse as Jaehyun’s image of him faded behind the doors. The rest happened in a blur of heavy steps and bruising grip as he was thrown into his prison cell with Yuta’s name heavy on his lips. 

Jaehyun continued to call out for his lover even as the guards left him to wallow in his pain and desperation. He was positive they’d taken Yuta in the same place, he’d seen them go the same direction, but Yuta was weak and likely unconscious so even if was indeed in one of the few cells that lined up the chilly room, there was no way for the swordsmith to know. Jaehyun could only scream his name, over and over hoping it would stir Yuta into consciousness, a futile attempt to make sure that he would not bleed to death in his sleep. Not alone, and not if Jaehyun could help it. At some point his voice had gone hoarse and his throat throbbed, but Jaehyun refused to let the tension leave his body until he saw Yuta. It was around that moment that a figure came into view. The familiar gait sent cold awareness over the swordsmith and at the same time ignited an anger so fierce Jaehyun was sure he could break down the cell door with just his willpower alone, just so he could wrap his hands around that neck and squeeze with all his remaining strength. Silence overcame Jaehyun’s cries for Yuta as he fanned the flames of his rage with every second he had to be in this man’s presence.

“It is no use. He will not be able to hear you, not with the condition he is in.” The king said, uncharacteristically soft, as if he hadn’t just ordered the brutal assault on Jaehyun’s lover. “Beg me. Beg me to take you back and I will. You do not have to die with him. Come back to me and we will rule this kingdom together. You will be untouchable next to me.” The man crouched in front of the swordsmith and continued shakily in delusion. He moved as if he was to cradle Jaehyun’s face in his hands, a thrilled smile looked completely out of place on his weathered face. It was then Jaehyun realised the extent of the king’s obsession. He truly believed he was doing Jaehyun a favour by getting rid of the only man he had ever loved. 

The swordsmith crawled closer to the king, his forearm barely fitting through the gap in the wooden grid as he reached out to fist the bottom of the king’s garbs, “You are a monster. A despicable, disgusting excuse of a man hiding behind his guards like a pitiful child.”

Jaehyun met the dark eyes with his own, hoping he was able to convey the intensity of his emotions, “You are truly mad if you thought that I have any desire to rule this forsaken country, let alone by your side. I would sooner cut off my own head than have to look at you any longer.”

The crazed smile on the king’s face fell in an instant and his hands dropped to his sides. The man bared his teeth, eyes narrowing as his body sagged in defeat. “Very well, if that is how you really feel then you leave me with no choice.” He looked to the side, at the far end of the room, presumably where Yuta’s cell was located, “Your lover will be executed by nightfall tomorrow, that is if he survives through the night with his wound.” A wicked look washed over the man’s eyes, “I was tempted to allow you to follow him in death but I’ve changed my mind. You will not be together, not even in the afterlife.” 

As if his words were not jarring and cruel enough, the king rose to his feet, forcefully prying Jaehyun’s swollen fingers off his clothes, “I will keep you by my side anyway and I’ll make sure that you will not get a chance to take your own life. I will have my fun breaking you again, over and over until you accept your fate beside me, swordsmith.” Jaehyun’s throat grew tight, still there was no longer a place for fear in his heart, he had already filled it with resentment, for his fate, and for Yuta’s.

The king gave him one last withering look before he walked away with heavy steps echoing across the room. A quiet stillness enveloped the room, there were no other prisoners held in any of the cells and the only other person Jaehyun could make out in the darkness was the guard standing by the door. The night gave way to the first rays of the sun as they through the small window. The swordsmith remained kneeled on dirt, his battered body trembling from the cold and the need to be near Yuta. He had not heard a single sound from his lover throughout the night and every second that passed filled his head with terrible images and possibilities.

The next footsteps that broke the eerie silence was of that of a young man dressed heavily for the cold. His hat covered most of his face and his hands were kept behind his back, concealing what he brought with him from view, still it was easy to tell what he’d come here for. The guards would have only let this man in for only one reason.

“I’m here to treat your wounds.” The young man said as the guard unlocked his cell door. There was no danger of Jaehyun escaping, not with his body had finally succumbing to the torture they’d put it through. Jaehyun was unable to even lift his head to look the man in the eyes as he’d responded, 

“I don’t need help.” He held his ground, unconsciously backing against the wall. If Yuta had already left him, there was no more reason for him to stay. If the king intended to keep him alive, he would do his hardest to achieve the exact opposite. He would follow Yuta everywhere, even in death. First however, he needed to know, to make sure, because he would never be able to forgive himself if he’d inadvertently abandoned Yuta to face his fate on his own.

“Being stubborn will not help you. How are you to stand up for yourself, all weakened?”

Jaehyun looked up with swollen eyes and met the gaze of the young doctor who had come to kneel in front of him, “I no longer intend to fight, I only wish to see my lover.” the words came out roughly. No matter how much he steeled himself against the idea, the image of Yuta’s pliant body, helpless and alone in a cold, damp cell, sent a wave of grief over him.

“Your lover…” The man echoed, confused. Jaehyun could tell that he was someone the king sent on a whim because Jaehyun knew the physician who attended to the king, had seen him a couple of times during his stay in the palace. He vaguely remembered a young man, an apprentice, following the older doctor during one of his visits but he had never seen him close enough so it was impossible to ascertain if he was looking at the same man.

“He’s in one of the cells here, gravely injured. The king had ordered his execution by nightfall, that is if I haven’t lost him yet.” Jaehyun brought his trembling hands in front of him, flat on the ground and bit back the agony that spiked at the smallest movement as he leaned forward and pressed his forehead against the dirt, “I beg of you, please, treat his wounds. I will survive, but he’s very hurt and he’s alone. Please…”

The doctor subtly looked at the guard’s direction, the man’s face remained stoic as he stood by the door, out of earshot. He didn’t look wary enough to be aware of the hushed conversation between Jaehyun and the doctor. Not yet, at least.

“I’m afraid I cannot help you young man. I came here on the orders of his majesty, I would be risking my life and my family’s if I were to go against his instructions.” The doctor fiddled the small bag he finally brought to view, supposedly where his medical supplies were. Jaehyun could tell that the man’s resolve was wavering. He wasn’t like any of them then, he still had the capacity to care for people like Jaehyun, he was a doctor after all. Doctors made vows to save lives, and never to choose who their next patient would be. Jaehyun could only cling onto that devotion if only to assuage the misery clawing at his chest.

“Please...I will do everything, I will give you anything you ask for, even my life.” 

“I have no use for your life young man. You should be doing your best to hold on to it instead of offering to throw it away at every chance. There is no guarantee that your lover is still alive, if what I’ve heard is true.”

“He’s stronger than you think. I can’t just sit here and be tended to while his life drains away.” The doctor sighed in exasperation, seemingly conflicted. He made no further remarks to acknowledge Jaehyun’s last words and instead gave the swordsmith a quick once over, intent on fulfilling the duties the king assigned him judging by how he reached for his supplies. Jaehyun almost ducked his head in frustration when the doctor’s eyes grew wide all of a sudden, his shoulders going stiff as his gaze locked onto something at Jaehyun’s waist. 

Following the man’s eyes, Jaehyun reached for the spot and his heart lurched at the feel of the satiny  _ bokjumeoni _ peeking from the folds of his clothes. The remembrance of Yuta’s excited face as he handed Jaehyun his gift, his very first one, renewed his tears as well as the determination to survive and take Yuta away from his hell. His only hope now lied in Taeil’s plans and this stranger who seemed kind enough to be swayed to help them.

“Tell me young man, your lover, is he a man of foreign roots?” 

“Yes! Do you know him?” The doctor shook his head and tried to quell Jaehyun’s enthusiasm with a hand on his bruised shoulder.

“Easy there. Listen to me…” He turned back towards the guard watching them from the distance before he deliberately lowered his voice, “I will see to your lover right away. But you must let me help you.” At Jaehyun’s reluctant nod, the young man unpacked his supplies from his bag, cleaning the dried up blood on Jaehyun’s face and securing his swollen fingers. After the affair, the doctor drew close under the guise of applying medication on the cuts on his arms, “My name is Dongyoung.” 

The introduction caught the swordsmith off guard; there was no real need for it other than to cement the doctor’s accountability, to reassure Jaehyun that a doctor that went by the name of Dongyoung, was going to see that his lover would survive.

“Thank you.” He whispered back, sincerely. For the first time since he’d woken up battered in his old quarters, Jaehyun felt an unexplained sense of peace, “I owe you my life.”

Dongyoung smiled, the brief kind that easily betrayed how nervous he was, “You owe me nothing. I’m simply repaying my debts.” Before Jaehyun could question Dongyoung’s words, the latter called for the guards to unlock the cell and quickly dove into an intricate lie he obviously only came up with in the last couple of minutes.

“His majesty had also tasked me to take a look at the other prisoner.”

“The Japanese slave?” The guard questioned incredulously, “He is due to be executed tonight. What is the need to tend to him?”

“His majesty wants a report on his condition and he wants to make sure he will not die from his wounds before he is executed in front. You dare question the king’s orders?” Dongyoung countered. Quick wits to go with his noble intentions, Jaehyun didn’t know what he’d done to gain the man’s favour but whatever it was, he hoped his luck would hold on longer. 

“No, good sir. Let me lead the way.” The guard acquiesced, bowing in half meant apology. Jaehyun watched as Dongyoung was taken deeper into the room, past two empty cells. The swordsmith’s chest tightened as Dongyoung and the guard stopped at a particular cell, too far for Jaehyun to get a proper look at the occupant. The doctor disappeared into the cell with a short warning to the guard, Jaehyun could guess that it was all part of the act.

Jaehyun waited and waited with bated breath but Dongyoung never came back out. It brought a sliver of hope; Yuta was alive, or Dongyoung would’ve gone back out at once. The only reason for him to stay was if he had a breathing, living patient to attend to. He had lost track of the time he spent watching the darkened cell and listening for the smallest sounds, when finally, the young doctor made his way out. He was missing his overcoat. The guard locked up after him after a lingering look at the prisoner held behind the cell door. 

The guard led the way out for the doctor, passing Jaehyun’s cell once more. Dongyoung paused briefly in front of Jaehyun, and without tearing his eyes away from the broad back of the palace guard, he whispered softly, “He is alive. Struggling but alive. Still, he will need food and water to recover.” Jaehyun nearly cried in relief at the confirmation and bowed his head deeply. His heart filled with hope and the swordsmith realised how he had almost forgotten how kindness felt like. There was no better time to be reminded than now as his lover ailed, far from his physical reach.

There was no chance to thank the young doctor because he was scrambling away in haste before Jaehyun could open his mouth, blabbering to the guard about dropping a valuable herb as an excuse for the delay. Before he disappeared from view, he shot Jaehyun one last look and a firm nod. A promise, Jaehyun recognised, that they were going to be okay. 

—

A gentle shove brought the swordsmith out of the restful sleep he’d unknowingly slipped into. He woke with a jerk, scrambling towards the single source of light in panic, hoping to glimpse the cell closest to the only window in the dank room. It remained quiet, not a sign of life to be felt. Quickly, he looked up towards the window and sighed in relief. It was still bright outside and the shadows from the wooden grills hinted that it was only a little after noon.

“Jaehyun.” A voice brought him back from his panic and he was immediately reminded that he was not alone. Taeil was sitting calmly in front of his cell, eyes silently scanning his person. He looked heartbroken as he continued, “Oh what have they done to you?”

“Taeil, you’re here.” Jaehyun allowed himself to speak, lips trembling at what this meant. If Taeil had managed to bypass the guard then—

“The coup will take place tonight. I heard about Yuta and convinced the officials that we have to make a move now. The palace will be in chaos, but it would keep the guards occupied enough that you should have no trouble escaping.” He laid a gentle hand on top of Jaehyun’s own bruised ones through the wooden grid, “I have spoken to a travelling merchant and he will allow you passage on his wagon out of the capital. He will take you as far away from here as possible.”

As he’d said the words, Jaemin came into view with stealthy footsteps, holding a steamed potato and a ceramic bottle filled with water which he thrust eagerly into Jaehyun’s face, “Sir, your beloved has eaten. He’s a real fighter, isn’t he? He looks battered but he acts like it’s nothing.” He said in obvious encouragement and Jaehyun felt warmth crawl up his neck despite himself. It was one thing to proclaim his devotion to Yuta in front of Taeil and the king but it was another to hear Jaemin speak about their relationship openly.

Suddenly, he realised what this meant. Yuta had regained consciousness. “Yuta!” He called out, startling both Taeil and Jaemin, and watched as a hand weakly reach from the cell close to the window, followed by a groan, 

The dam finally broke as Jaehyun crumbled in relief, tears of joy falling freely down his face as he savoured the sound of the sweet voice as it softly drawled, 

“Jaehyun?”

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic comes to an end next chapter, it wasn't a long journey per se but it feels long because this fic was put on a short hiatus for a while. it makes me feel lighter knowing i'm finally finishing one of my two ongoing chaptered fics though so hurray!


	8. one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're finally at the end! i know i said i was gonna post this the day after chap 7 but life happened (as usual) but here we are!! 
> 
> anyway, enjoy ;p

Dongyoung watched the man curled on the ground take shallow, laboured breaths, his hand pressed weakly against the wound on his side, never wavering despite how long he must’ve been in that position. His state of undress was enough to give away what had transpired in the throne hall, if the blood stained floors didn’t.

“Heavens,” He breathed out as he moved to a kneel beside the injured man. There was no mistaking that strong nose and heart-shaped lips. His eyes were closed but Dongyoung was sure he would find a pair of big, dazzling gems behind those eyelids, “how did you find yourself here?” Then he remembered how impulsively this foreigner defended him against armed thieves, risking his life for a stranger as if the compulsion came naturally to him.

“This isn’t how I hoped I would meet you again.”

He was rewarded by a soft groan and a whimper. Immediately, Dongyoung went to work, gently prying the man’s hand away from his wound. The bleeding had slowed, no longer gushing as one this size normally would, but he was still losing blood and Dongyoung would be damned if he let this man die. He pulled out his supplies and went to work on cleaning the wound and stitching it close with steady fingers. It was a gash that sliced through nearly half his abdomen, fortunately not deep enough to have damaged any organs. It was big however, and the rough way he’d been handled had opened up the cut further. The doctor’s heart hammered against his chest and he’s unable to stop himself from looking behind his shoulders, at the guard that stood outside the cell, afraid that the unnecessary tenderness would give away his lie. Still, he could only continue with careful movements. It was a shabby work at best but enough to keep the wound close for as long as it needed to be. He wiped the sweat away from the man’s forehead with a clean rag, brushing hair that was matted with dirt and blood away from the beautiful face. He recognised the heat that emanated from the prone body and quickly realised he was running a fever, albeit not a bad one, but still concerning, considering it meant his wound had been infected. It was also too cold for only a threadbare jeogori that barely covered the length of his bruised body. 

Without thinking, Dongyoung shrugged his top coat off, and immediately shivered from the cold, damp air. He covered the man in his coat, slipping the skinny limbs through the sleeves and wrapping it completely over the dressed wound, “Be well, my friend. I will come to see you again.” He whispered soft enough that there was no danger of the guard hearing before he finally pulled away to retreat from the cell.

The guard had an unreadable look on his face as he locked up after Dongyoung, “Bring him some water to drink if you wish for him to survive until tonight.” So that he would be executed in front of his lover? No, Dongyoung shook his head, that was not going to happen. His mind raced at every way he could possibly sneak the pair of them out of this predicament but ultimately coming up with nothing.

“Of course.” 

After he’d successfully delivered the message to the other man who miserably awaited news of his lover’s condition, Dongyoung beelined towards the  _ Gwolnaegaksa _ complex where he was sure he would find officials who remained unfazed by the king’s tyrannical ways. He’d heard about the unrest surrounding the king’s rule, and the rumours of a coup brewing right under the king’s nose for many moon cycles now but there was never enough evidence to point at the perpetrators. There had been numerous attempts to pick out those involved and many had already died from the ‘cleansing’, except it seemed the king only managed to get to the surface of the revolt.

Dongyoung looked up at the massive complex with trepidation. The reason no one had ever confessed to the people behind the coup, was because they were the same people who spearheaded the rounding up of those so-called traitors. He knew this, because if not for the path he chose, he would be in this very place, dressed in an official’s  _ dallyeong _ .

—

When Yuta had woken up for the first time after the horrific incident at the throne hall, it was to a boy who was offering him a bottle of water and half a potato through his cell door, “Sir, please have these. You will need the strength.” he watched the boy through lowered lashes as he shot nervous glances where the door should be, blinking a few times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. He moved a finger and grimaced at the sharp pain, a reminder that he was, in fact, still alive, albeit locked up.

His entire body felt hot and heavy and pain laced his every move. It was a wonder he can even manage to sit up, shakily leaning against a weakened arm and then against the cold wall. Instinctively, he clutched his tattered jeogori but instead of the cheap, scratchy material, his hand met smooth, textured fabric. He looked down at the clothing wrapped around his body, recognising the  _ durumagi _ that men of noble upbringing wore with increasing confusion. Yuta turned back towards the boy and the bottle he slid through the gaps, sticking his arm in next to hand him the potato so he would not need to crawl closer.

He took the offered potato then reached for the water, clumsily tipping it and spilling some on the  _ durumagi _ in his haste to drink. He vaguely remembered being made to drink water at some point in captivity but he couldn’t be certain. He smacked his chapped lips together in bliss at the soothing slide the liquid down his parched throat and croakily thanked the boy, the potato still warm in his hand. The boy nodded and scooted away after he was sure that Yuta had every intention to eat. 

“The other sir will be very pleased if you recover quickly. He is waiting for you.” Before Yuta could question the younger’s words, he bounded away with another bottle of water and half the potato in the other direction. Yuta had no strength to see where he went and could only follow him with his eyes from where he sat until he was no longer in view. He was cold, very cold, and pulled the warm coat around himself like it protected him from everything else. He brought the potato to his lips and took small, tentative bites.

“Yuta!” His head snapped up at the unexpected call, nearly forgetting the pain that rippled through his body as he crawled to the cell door with bated breath. A man sat next to the boy from earlier, in front of another cell.

“Jaehyun?”

“Yuta! Yuta, you’re okay!” The voice continued to cry out in relief. Yuta saw the familiar hand shoot out through the grid, heavily bandaged. His stomach sank and he set the bottle down in case it toppled from how badly he was shaking.

“I’m well. Jaehyun, are you alright? What did they do to you?”

“It’s all good Yuta. I’m okay, we’ll both be okay. I’ll come to get you, I promise you.” The words warmed Yuta. Despite everything that had transpired, there was no denying the effect Jaehyun had on him, the smallest gestures were enough for hope to bloom in his chest, even at the worst situation. He could still feel the ghost of the unwanted touches and the force with which they’d tried to tear him down. He remembered resisting, scratching and swinging with all the strength he could muster when finally, firm and strong arms encircled him with tenderness he hadn’t been treated to since he was brought to that throne hall. Jaehyun came for him, even bleeding from the many cuts on his face, he came for Yuta.

“I believe you…” He responded softly, “I’ll be waiting.” Before he realised it, tears were cascading down his cheeks without control, gone was the hollow feeling of forlornness and in its place was intense yearning for the future he dared to dream with Jaehyun. 

He somehow knew this time, that Jaehyun would keep his promise.

—

Yuta nearly slipped back into unconsciousness from the strain of keeping himself upright, despite Jaehyun’s efforts to keep him awake with his rambling. He recounted their first meeting, his first impression of Yuta and the effect he’d left on him long after their first time together. It brought a small smile to his lips but it wasn’t enough to keep his senses alert and his eyes from fluttering. He was saved from the trouble by the young man who trudged into the room with light steps, stopping briefly in front of Jaehyun’s cell before crouching in front of Yuta’s. He recognised the face at once.

“The young doctor from the market.” He’d said in wonder, eyes wide.

“Yes, and you, the brave warrior who beat up the marketplace thugs.” Yuta flinched as he bit back a chuckle. 

“What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

“I didn’t  _ find _ you. The fates have brought me to you. While this isn’t the circumstances I would’ve hoped for, I am glad I can finally return the favour.” The man stuck his hand in the cell and Yuta held back the instinct to cower away from the touch when he laid his hand on Yuta’s forehead, “You’re still warm to the touch. I’m afraid you might have caught an infection with your wound but your body is fighting it. You really are a strong man.”

“Who are you?” Yuta couldn’t help but voice his question, still in disbelief that so many people would be helping them, let alone a noble born doctor who seemed intent on keeping them alive.

“I am your friend.” The man simply smiled, pulling back but not before saying, “I will help you find your way home, Yuta.” 

—

It was an hour to sunset when they felt the ground rumble and the screams echo in the distance. Yuta was startled into alertness at once, “Jaehyun? What’s happening?”

His lover seemed to have been anticipating this because there was no surprise nor confusion in his tone when he’d answered, “They’re making their move now.” It wasn’t the answer Yuta was expecting but amidst his confusion, the same boy from before broke through the unguarded entrance, “Sirs! I’ve come to release you!” he’d announced, a little too loud to be inconspicuous and Yuta was led to believe there weren’t anyone within the vicinity who would care about their escape.

“Jaemin!” Jaehyun exclaimed, “Hurry, release me first!” Yuta heard the jingling of the keys as the boy struggled to unlock the cell and the telltale sound of the door swinging open as Jaehyun limped towards Yuta, followed by the boy.

It was the first time he saw his lover again and he was overcome with emotion because despite the bruises and the swollen eyes, Jaehyun had the same kind smile he had when he reached for Yuta for the first time in the stifling walls of the brothel. 

“I’m here now.” the taller man said as he gently cradled Yuta against his chest as soon as the door was out of the way. 

“You are.” And oh how Yuta longed to hear those words on the day Jaehyun swore to get him at the brothel so they could run away together. The memory felt like a distant shadow of their better days, yet those simple words brought them to the front of Yuta’s mind. The swordsmith sealed the moment with a kiss that was far from pleasant with their dry and cut lips and the grime on their skin, still, it brought the much needed sense of belongingness that Yuta desperately clung to.

“You held on for me, love. You amaze me every time.” Jaehyun whispered as they pulled away, thumb caressing Yuta’s cheek softly. 

“Sirs, we have to go.” The boy interjected, face red and regretful for breaking up the moment.

Jaehyun nodded and pulled the smaller man slowly to his feet with equally shaky limbs, mindful of his wound that Yuta kept a protective arm over. The good doctor had made sure it was dressed properly and that the bleeding had been stanched, still, the pain remained immense and debilitating that his knees buckled and only Jaehyun’s firm hand under his arms kept him upright. The boy named Jaemin quickly came to his other side to take some of his weight.

“The merchant is waiting by the palace gate with his wagon.” Jaemin explained as they half dragged Yuta on his feet. While Yuta didn’t have any idea what they had planned, it seemed it had something to do with this merchant the boy spoke of. They’d passed the throne hall and there was not a single guard stationed at any of the buildings around it.

“Where are everyone? Why are there no guards?” Yuta found himself questioning after observing a group of court women in a hurry to the gate. 

“There is a coup happening right at this moment,” Jaemin supplied with a frown, “led by my master.” 

“An uprising against the king?” He asked in disbelief. A cursory glance towards his lover was all the confirmation he needed. Was harmless, young Jaehyun really a part of this? 

“It is what he deserves, Yuta.” And the older man couldn’t agree more. A few paces away from the gate, Jaehyun halted to a stop, his bruised eyes ablaze with determination. Slowly, he let go of his grip on Yuta, his gaze moving to Jaemin, “Take care of him for me please. Take him to the wagon and stay hidden. I’ll be back.” 

Jaemin looked just as confused but he didn’t need to be told twice as he started to steer Yuta in the direction of the wagon. 

“Jae! Where are you going?” He couldn’t keep the tremor in his voice as his hand shot out in a futile attempt to hold Jaehyun back, pulling back some, enough to look at the younger man.

“I have something I need to do. I’ll be back.” Jaehyun brought Yuta’s hand up to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to the back of it.

“But—“

“Believe in me Yuta, I’ll never let you be alone again.” Yuta swallowed his protests, eyes quickly filling with tears.

“I can’t lose you.” 

“And you won’t, I swear to you.” The younger man addressed the boy next, ‘Jaemin go.” Reluctantly, the swordsmith let go of Yuta’s hand, but not without another kiss than had Yuta’s frame shaking with the need to follow. 

Jaehyun limped away from them while Jaemin continued to lead him in the opposite direction. Yuta watched warily as his lover disappeared in the darkness as day succumbed to night. There was smoke billowing from one of the buildings in the palace and Yuta could only hope that Jaehyun was not headed in that direction.

“Can you hop on by yourself?” The boy asked when they finally reached the wagon covered by a tarp. A man came around it to stand in front of them with a look of concern. From the way he was dressed, he could tell this was the merchant they were supposed to meet.

“Goodness, what happened to you?”

“Sir, the king’s residence is in flames, I believe this isn’t the most surprising thing you have seen tonight.” Jaemin exclaimed haughtily and Yuta wondered if the boy was caught up in his emotions because he clearly remembered him being beyond polite. 

“I suppose you have a point but there’s no need to be upset about the question. Here, let me help him.” With little effort, the merchant lifted Yuta off his feet and deposited him in the wagon, behind the flaps of the tarp and on top of the colourful textile. 

“Isn’t there another man?”

“He will be here shortly.” Jaemin said, clipped. Yuta followed his eyes as it wildly took in the chaos around them. More people were running out of the palace in panic and there were numerous calls to put out the fire but they were drowned by the screams of the tormented souls waiting for the chance for retribution. 

Yuta curled into himself, indirectly reminded by the merciless king as he sat on his throne and watched with cold eyes as Yuta was held down in humiliation. A shiver wracked his body in response.

Seconds turned into minutes and very soon he was vibrating in worry and Jaemin didn’t seem to be doing any better as he shuffled on his feet, “Is he still not here?” He interrupted the boy’s internal turmoil. The merchant was already mounted in front of the wagon, his mules neighing in unrest.

“I don’t see him yet. We need to leave soon in case the guards overpower the members of the coup.” Jaemin regarded him as he said this.

“I’m not leaving him behind.”

“I know.” Then, the boy’s eyes widened, mouth falling open as he rushed to the wagon, “He’s here!” Yuta’s heart leapt and he found himself scooting closer to the opening of the flaps despite the ache that throbbed from his side. With tears clouding his vision, he welcomed Jaehyun back with outstretched arms and sighed contentedly as the younger man sank into his embrace. 

“I told you I’ll be back.” He mouthed into the column of Yuta’s neck as the  _ durumagi _ slid down his shoulders. Jaehyun pressed a kiss on his neck before he pulled away so he could properly climb into the wagon. He gathered Yuta close, letting the older man pillow his head against his sore chest. He had a haphazardly wrapped package on his back, a sword, Yuta could tell, from the shape of it.

Jaemin surprised both of them when he silently climbed after them, the wagon wasn’t nearly big enough for all three of them, even with the boy’s lanky figure but Jaehyun pulled his legs to his body and gave the boy a rueful smile.

“You are coming with us then?” He didn’t look all too surprised, Yuta noted, as Jaemin remained silent. There were tears in the boy’s eyes when he finally spoke, first to the merchant to let him know they were ready to leave and then to the two men in front of him.

“My master, he wanted me to leave this place with you.”

Jaehyun’s eyes softened as he took a deep breath, “I figured. He wanted me to hand you this.” The swordsmith reached for a crumpled paper hastily stashed in his pocket. Jaemin reached for it with pursed lips. Yuta recognised the pain of parting with someone beloved and his fingers tightened around Jaehyun’s arm in response.

“He asked me to take good care of you, should you choose to come with us.”

“Did he?”

“You were right. Taeil cares a great deal about you. He doesn’t wish for you to witness what will become of this place.” Jaehyun continued wistfully as they watched the palace get smaller and smaller, and with it the nightmares that haunted them even in their waking hours. 

Now that the adrenaline had passed, Yuta’s head had become heavy with dizziness, and his stomach lurched many times during the rough journey to the city gate. They stopped for a quick break when they were far enough away from the capital that the smell of smoke had dissipated and the chill of winter sank deeper into their bones. The merchant stepped down to check on them, kindly offering a bottle of water to Yuta who had gone paler since they left the palace. The merchant also rummaged for an extra pair of  _ baji _ which Jaehyun dressed Yuta in with all the carefulness he can manage with his swollen fingers. It was big on Yuta but it did its job of keeping him warm.

“I wish I could do more for you than just whisking you away from Hanyang.” The merchant sighed as he watched Jaehyun fretfully tend to the feverish man while Jaemin dug into his small bag for something.

“You are doing enough by taking us away from there.” Jaehyun said, his hand tightening protectively around his lover, “May we at least have your name, sir?”

“You may call me Kun. I provide the finest silks for the nobilities of Hanyang. I suppose business will be bad for a little while.” Yuta wondered if by a little while, the man meant a long time. After all, he’d seen the flames spread from the king’s residence, one magnificent structure reduced to ashes after another, but he had no strength left to voice out his question and the rest of the conversation was drowned out in his head until Jaemin nudged him to wakefulness.

“Sir you must drink this.” Yuta stared at the cloudy water held in a tea bowl. It smelled like herbs but Yuta felt more inclined to ask where the boy had gotten the bowl from until he saw the merchant, Kun, produce a similar one from his supplies, using it to scoop water from the nearby river, “this is a herbal infusion that sir Dongyoung especially concocted for you, for you to recover your strength.” Yuta frowned at the name before Jaehyun casually clarified that it was the doctor who’d saved them.

“He called me his friend,” Yuta found himself sharing as he took careful sips of the cold tea. He was sure herbal infusions didn’t work this way but they couldn’t risk starting a fire for fear of possible pursuers, “but he never told me his name.” And it was one he would remember for eternity, for the doctor’s courage was the only reason they managed to get this far. He’d heard about the official they called Taeil, had a glimpse of him back in the holding cells but never managed to meet the man properly.

“My master said sir Dongyoung is the youngest son of an official. He had decided to follow his calling and left Hanyang to learn from the best doctors in the kingdom but today he came to his father on his knees, begging that he hold off the guards from pursuing us and allow us passage on a ship heading to the new port of Hiroshima in Japan.” 

“Japan…” Yuta echoed in disbelief, he looked up to Jaehyun with lidded eyes, “Did you plan this? What about you?”

“I’m coming with you.” His lover said in a heartbeat. His determination was as fiery as it had been when he scooped Yuta out of that prison cell.

“But Jaehyun, you don’t know what awaits us in Japan. Your life, your livelihood is here...Both of you, you don’t even speak the language.” Of all people, Yuta knew best how hard it was to fit into a society that shunned you for being an outsider, especially one coming from Joseon.

“Then we’ll learn! If a worse fate awaits us then we’ll fight, the same way we did today. But I am never letting go of you again.” Jaehyun buried his face in his lover’s filthy hair unable to keep himself away for longer than a second. Yuta saw Kun turn away in discomfort so he hurriedly hushed the younger man whose breath had started to quicken in panic. Panic at the thought of parting from Yuta again. He knew how that felt like.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. We will make it.” Yuta traced a pattern of an imaginary cherry blossom on Jaehyun’s uninjured hand in an effort to comfort him, holding him close, “I’m sure we will.” Without realising it, he’d reached out towards Jaemin as well, despite the palpable tension that kept the boy stiff as a plank every time Jaehyun so much as touched Yuta. His heart sank when Jaemin stayed rooted in his place, turning away from them and like he hadn’t seen Yuta’s offer.

After days of arduous journey, as they arrived at the port of Busan, Jaemin would quietly say, “The coup had succeeded, we were not followed.” like he made a groundbreaking discovery. Yuta knew what it meant for the young boy, that the capital city he had grown up in would be in shambles with no place for a young slave like him, and that the man he had once looked up to like a father was in the centre of the chaos.

“It was always going to happen.” Jaehyun moved to comfort the boy as Kun helped them out of the wagon. “The king was always going to meet the end of his rule at the hands of his own officials. If not Taeil, another person would have led it, your master was brave enough to take up the role himself. It was just a matter of time.” Yuta watched them with wonder, unable to fathom that Jaehyun had known about a plan this monumental and had used it as a ticket to escape. The same Jaehyun who used to wallow in self pity over his lack of ability to read.

“This is as far as I can take you.” Kun interrupted the conversation with a rueful smile, “Do not worry about compensation, official Moon has already promised a generous reward for your safe arrival here.” to which the three of them bowed deeply in gratitude. 

“Live a good, long life.” the merchant said out loud, one last time before he rode to his next province of destination. If their original plans hadn’t gone awry, Jaehyun and Yuta would be riding in that direction too, instead of crossing the sea. They boarded the ship after Jaemin had spoken to the captain, and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible as they huddled to a dark corner near the cargo. A hard feat to achieve with the expensive  _ durumagi _ Yuta still wore and the yellowing bruises on their faces.

The ship was abuzz with news of the coup, half celebrated the exile and possible execution of the king and half worried about the fate that awaited the kingdom in the hands of the king’s half brother whose identity had been kept from the public until the king’s deposition. It was surreal to hear people speak about an event that hit too close to home for them, after all, it was only days ago when they had been held captive by the very same mad king simply for being in love with each other. Jaehyun’s hand found Yuta’s under the cover of the threadbare blanket Kun gave them for their journey.

It was when their ship began to pull away from land and set out to the sea, that Jaemin finally lowered his defenses, wailing uncontrollably as the gravity of the situation began to sink in. His world had been completely upturned, as had Jaehyun’s and Yuta’s, he’d lost a master and a home on the same day. To Yuta’s surprise, the boy scurried close for comfort, allowing Yuta to hold him without misgiving. Only then did Yuta realise that there was a name to what he felt, as he caught Jaehyun’s eyes over Jaemin’s head, acceptance and peace. Today he would sail back home not as a warrior but as a lover, a protector, with his head held up high and his heart full and warm in his chest despite everything that he lost along the way.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**_1599, year of the earth boar_ **

_ Jaehyun, _

_ This may be the last I will have the chance to address you, after all, there is no guarantee I will survive tonight. Your beautiful swords have brought you fame and high regards but I have no doubt that it has brought you the same extent of grief. I would apologise, but I am sure you have tired of hearing the same things over and over, it is after all, my thoughtless actions that got you caught in the king’s web of atrocities.  _

_ I wish for you to live a happier life, even if that means away from the kingdom of your birth. Perhaps you were never meant for this cruel place. Still, in the end, I want you to know that it is your arrival in the palace that pushed those in power to unite against a greater enemy, even if they were the same people that caused you suffering. In the end, you are the incendiary amidst a field of grass, setting the stage for a new age for our kingdom. _

_ Taeil. _

Jaehyun folded the letter carefully, placing it inside the same wooden box Jaemin had kept it in. It was the boy’s most prized possession. The message for Jaehyun took a small portion of the lengthy letter the official addressed to his former charge, yet the message was just as significant, even more so now that they knew the fate that befell Taeil following the siege. His eyes stayed locked on the wooden box as he was hit with the epiphany that not too long ago, he wouldn’t have been able to decipher Taeil’s last message to him, held back by his illiteracy and his general resignation to his fate. Jaemin had been incredibly patient with him, sharing the knowledge that his master once imparted with him, despite his own difficulties adjusting to their new life across the sea.

It had been almost a year since they’d escaped to Japan, still the wounds remain fresh and Taeil’s sacrifice was stark in their memories, much like the sword that hung majestically on their wall. He had debated selling the damned thing when they’d first arrived, and it had been the original purpose he’d intended for it when he ran back into the blazing residence that once belonged to the tyrant king. He was aware of the value of the sword, made from the most precious materials and stolen from the fallen king of Joseon. There would be plenty of  _ daimyo _ who would pay a fortune for something so rare.

Yet, Yuta held his hand that trembled with uncertainty and guided it over every curve and dip of the expertly crafted sword, reminding him that beneath the painful memories were the strength of his will to live and the sweet victory that followed, the very same way he guided Jaehyun in a land so remarkably foreign that even breathing felt restricted. So they kept it, marked their first home with it as a reminder of the hell they’ve survived together. One day, when they were ready, perhaps they would eventually part with it, for now, it would remain where it was.

Jaehyun’s thoughts were interrupted by Yuta padding into the room after Jaehyun left the  _ shoji _ doors open. Immediately, Jaehyun’s eyes were drawn towards his lover, at his plain grey  _ yukata _ with the sleeves folded out of the way as he saw to his chores, “You’re reading it again?” Yuta sat beside him, hand automatically reaching out for Jaehyun’s.

“It just feels different. Jaemin had read it to me many times before but it somehow feels different to finally be able to make out the words without another person’s help.” 

“I kind of understand what you mean. During my early days at the brothel, I struggled getting my thoughts across, there was no one who shared my language, no one to teach me the proper words to express myself.” A few moon cycles ago, Jaehyun would’ve been incensed at any reminder of Yuta’s time at the brothel. They’d both agreed that his family didn’t need to know what transpired in the time Yuta had been trapped in Joseon, and Jaehyun himself didn’t like to recall the pained look on Yuta’s face every time he left after a night of passion. Yet now, the memory only brought a strange kind of peace he hadn’t known until his norm had become waking up to Yuta’s face inches from his, and coming home to his brilliant smile at the end of the day as his lover offered to draw him a warm bath.

“You did so well. You’ve mastered the language very fast.” Jaehyun instinctively praised, drawing his lover into his lap so he can capture those plump lips into a messy kiss. Yuta’s hands circled his neck and Jaehyun’s throat bobbed under the pads of his fingers. The swordsmith’s wandering hand slipped into the smaller man’s clothes, pulling his  _ yukata _ loose from the sash and tracing the raised scar that spanned almost his entire belly. It had been a close call, way too close for comfort, but Yuta had been strong for him, and he’d survived, so they could live the future they dreamed together.

“Food is ready. I grilled some fish and made seaweed broth. We have plenty of rice to share.” 

“You make a good house wife.” He received a playful slap on the cheek for the comment. He captured the hand and pressed it against the same cheek, closing his eyes as he savored the touch. Yuta’s hand was rough with callouses from holding a sword, and yet Jaehyun craved the feeling. He knew Yuta’s days as a soldier were long over, he had made it clear that he wished to see the end of his days living a peaceful life with Jaehyun, but he couldn't help but worry still. One didn’t simply go from being an honourable soldier from a well to do family to a foreign slave and then to a nobody. Despite his reservations, Yuta proved over and over how little he cared for reputations, _ “Does it matter that you are hailed a hero to your country when you aren’t happy?” _ he once asked, effectively putting to rest all the uncertainties that plagued Jaehyun.

Despite Jaehyun’s reluctance to let go, they eventually parted on Yuta’s warnings about sending him to sleep with Jaemin if the rice went cold because of his teasing, “Food is not easy to come by and you need it for energy while you’re under Yamazaki-san’s tutelage.” They made their way to the kitchen with Jaehyun’s shoulders hunched and eyes downcast.

“Ah, that’s true. He doesn’t hold back does he? Not even my poor Japanese can deter his steadfastness.” He went on to say, the brief reminder of the long day he had ahead of him, training under one of the best and strictest swordsmiths in the village weighed his features down. Yuta seemed to notice because he draped a woven blanket over Jaehyun’s shoulders to shield him from the draft coming from the open windows, before pouring him freshly brewed tea. A single glance in Yuta’s direction was all it took to unravel the coil of fatigue and worries. His lover fetched the food and laid them neatly on the table for the swordsmith.

“You’re going to do well, Jaehyun. I know it must be frustrating having to learn everything differently, when you’ve been forging swords for years, but I believe in you. Before you know it, you’ll be a master of  _ katana _ .” Jaehyun tugged him down for another kiss, this time his lips lingered enough that he could taste Yuta even after they long parted.

“Will Jaemin be coming home for lunch?” Jaehyun asked, only now realising the absence of the young boy and his stack of books that normally took up all the space on the tea table.

“He said he’ll be at the temple the entire day, he’s been practising his writing in Japanese. Very soon he’ll be better than me.”

“He’s really living up to Taeil’s expectations.” Jaehyun took a heaping portion of the steaming rice into his mouth. Yuta made it just the way the younger man liked it.

“Jaemin wants to be an emissary for Joseon. That’s what he told me, no wonder he’s soaking up all the knowledge he can acquire.” Yuta’s expression remained neutral and there was sadness tinting his voice, Jaehyun couldn’t blame him. After all, he’d lived through many attempts for peace negotiations between their nations, all of them had fallen through. Jaemin’s wish to return to Joseon had been no secret between the three of them, still he was so young, and he had a long way to go and the most they could do was be there to keep him on the right path, so he would not forget what he stood for.

“A former slave becoming an emissary? That’s something I’d like to see.” When the worry didn’t leave Yuta’s features, Jaehyun reached for his hand, intertwining their fingers under the table. His eyes followed the cherry blossom charm Yuta had dangling from his sash, a good luck charm, he once said. “We never know what the future will bring, Yuta. Just like how I never once thought that it would bring you to me. I realised that amongst the disappointments and pain, there are still things worth celebrating.”

“You’re right.” The smaller man nuzzled Jaehyun’s neck, sharing the heat of the blanket as he continued, “Come, let’s finish the food while it’s warm.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been real fun (and challenging) writing this story. it involved a lot of careful research and some of the themes are quite extreme so i had to write it as carefully as i could manage without compromising the plot. i know this story isn't for everyone and a lot of the chapters were shadowed with helplessness and doom so if you made it this far, i would like to personally thank you for sticking around!
> 
> i hope the ending was happy enough to make up for 7 chapters of suffering. ;u;


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